The Course of Love
by Boogum
Summary: Collection of unconnected drabbles and one-shots. Featuring adrienette, marichat, ladrien, ladynoir and anything else that takes my fancy.
1. Trouble

This was written for carliwrites from tumblr. The prompt: "You fainted … straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted to get my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes." Requested pairing was marichat.

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**Trouble**

Marinette groaned and her eyelashes fluttered. She froze. There were arms holding her. No,_ carrying_ her, and the person moved swiftly. Her heart thudded like a drum. Knots of panic twisted her stomach. She snuck a glance up and saw a smooth jawline, black mask, messy blond hair. A small sigh escaped her and all the stiffness relaxed from her body.

"It's just you," she said, leaning more into his chest.

"Ah, the princess is finally awake." Chat Noir tightened his grip. "Hold on."

"What—"

He leapt over a gap between rooftops. She instinctively pressed closer to him. She wasn't scared of heights, but there was something different about being carried over fatal drops than being the one in control of the jumps. Not that she thought he would let her fall.

"What happened?" she tried again.

Last she remembered, she'd been shopping for material so she could finish her project tonight.

"You fainted … straight into my arms." His teeth flashed in a grin and he wiggled his eyebrows. "You know, if you wanted to get my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes."

She rolled her eyes, but he sobered a second later.

"You have a fever, Marinette. I'm taking you home."

"But I need to—"

"Nope." He pressed one clawed finger to her lips. "What you need is to rest."

Warmth pooled on her cheeks. The blatant concern and softness in his eyes was one thing, but it was quite another when combined with the intimacy of their proximity and his touch. Sometimes this flirty kitty-cat was trouble for her heart.

He jumped onto her balcony and carefully helped her back to her feet. Her legs wobbled. She pitched into his chest, but his hands were quick to find her waist and steady her.

"Easy there," he murmured.

Her cheeks grew hotter. (Because of the fever. Not because he was giving her that soft look again.)

"I'll help you inside," he offered.

She bit her lip and nodded. He was the perfect gentleman as he helped her into her bed and asked if she needed anything else. She assured him she would be fine now. Her parents would be finished in the bakery soon and would be able to look after her.

"Then I'll leave you to rest," he said, dipping into an elaborate bow before he headed for the skylight.

"Chat?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Thank you."

His smile was warm and made her feel even warmer. Yes, this kitty-cat was definitely trouble for her heart.


	2. Irreplaceable

This was written for an anonymous prompt requester on tumblr. The prompt: "You're the only one I trust to do this." Requested pairing was ladynoir. Hope you enjoy!

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**Irreplaceable**

He hadn't meant to say the words. Not at all. It was just difficult not to feel spikes of insecurity when so many new (and talented) miraculous holders kept being brought into the fold. Difficult not to feel those spikes dig deeper and deeper when he made so many mistakes and made Ladybug's job so much more complicated because he couldn't stay professional. (Or so she seemed to suggest if that last scold was anything to go by.) The words had just slipped out of his mouth.

"_Why don't you just replace me then? I'm sure you can find a better Chat Noir, right?"_

Her eyes widened. She stepped closer to him, but he stepped back, resisting the urge to clutch his arms in a defensive, shutting off pose. His tone had been petulant, but all the petulance in the world couldn't disguise the fragility—the honest fear that he wasn't and never could be good enough for her.

He was so pathetic.

"I'm kidding," he said with a too forced laugh, and then his ring beeped. For once, it was perfect timing. "Well, that's my cue. Seeya round m'la—"

"Chat." She grabbed his arm, stopping him from bolting. Her voice was very soft. "You don't really think I'd want to replace you, do you?"

His gaze skittered, falling to his boots.

"I've told you before you're irreplaceable to me, kitty."

"Irreplaceable, huh?"

His flirty tone was weak and missed all the wrong notes. Maybe that was why she didn't offer a bantering response or roll her eyes. She stepped closer and shifted her grip to his hands. Her eyes sought his—warm blue bells illuminated by the streetlamp.

"Yes," she said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. "You're irreplaceable. You've had my back since day one. You're always there when I need you. You've put yourself in danger to protect me so many times, and though I do wish you could be a little more professional, I love the fun I can have with you." Her eyes twinkled. "Yes, even your puns."

"Wait, you do?"

"Yes!" She laughed and smiled, still holding his hands. "You're my best friend, my partner. You're the only one I trust to do this. I couldn't imagine anyone else as Chat Noir."

Warmth blossomed in his chest and put the dopiest of smiles on his face. He tugged her closer, but only so he could bump her forehead with his like an affectionate cat. She didn't pull back. Her smile was soft and her eyes softer as she held his gaze. If he wasn't already head over heels for her, he would have fallen for her then.

"M'lady," he whispered, "I hope you know you're irreplaceable to me too."


	3. Day 1: Surprise

Decided to have a go at Fictober. I'm gonna try keep these short (like 500 words for each, but knowing me I'll go over). Anyway, hope you enjoy!

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Day 1: "It will be fun, trust me."

* * *

**Day 1: Surprise**

"It will be fun," Chat said as held his hand out. "Trust me."

Marinette pursed her lips. "I don't know. Sounds like you're messing with me."

He made a show of being offended, complete with throwing his hand over his heart. "You wound me! Here I came all this way, even went to great lengths to prepare a special surprise for you, and all you can say is that you think I'm messing with you. Oh Marinette of little faith, oh doubter of—"

She clamped her hand over his mouth. "Alright, alright. Calm down, you silly cat. You're going to make my parents wonder what's going on."

He smiled against her palm, green eyes dancing. Her heart (much to her irritation) stuttered a little.

"Fine," she said, pulling her hand away. "Show me this surprise of yours."

"Excellent!" He scooped her up into his arms, ignoring her startled yelp. "Hold on tight, princess."

**oOo**

It was a runway. A runway on the long roof of a building, complete with fairy lights and candles. The ruffled cocktail dress she had made was there, but now it was no longer in pieces like how she had found it before the fashion show. (She still bet all the money in her bank that Lila had been the culprit, though no one had been able to find proof.)

"Chat," Marinette whispered. "You really did all this?"

"I heard what happened yesterday. I thought it sucked you didn't get to have your dress featured in the show, so …" He shrugged and gestured to the makeshift runway.

"But how? I threw the dress out. It was completely ruined."

He smiled. "I'm pretty handy with a needle."

"You?" She couldn't help but laugh. "You sewed it back together?"

"Don't sound so shocked. I have many hidden talents … though I can admit I probably didn't do as good a job as you, and my fingers did suffer for it."

She walked over to examine the pink dress. He had used different colours of the same fabric to fill in some parts where the pieces must have been unsalvageable, but the way it blended together looked more artistic than like some shoddy patchwork job. She couldn't believe he had gone to so much effort. Maybe that was why her eyes prickled.

"Thank you," she said, pulling him into a hug.

His arms came around her, warm and secure. "If you really want to thank me, you should go model that dress on this very professional runway I made for you."

"M-me?"

He pulled back to meet her gaze. "I mean I could model it, but I don't think it'll go with the cat ears and black leather."

She giggled. "That's true."

He booped her nose with his finger. "Go on. Go get changed behind the screen. I'll get the music ready."

His smile was infectious, so she sucked up her self-consciousness, grabbed the dress, and ducked behind the sheet he had put up at the other end of the runway. Upbeat music started to play. Soon, she was wearing the dress, her heart thumping. She pushed apart the sheet and strutted down the long strip of fabric he had rolled out for a catwalk, trying to mimic all the models she had seen. He grinned widely as he filmed the whole thing on her phone.

Marinette struck a dramatic pose at the end and winked.

He whistled. "Yeah, Marinette, work it!"

She burst into laughter. "Okay, that's enough."

"No, wait, do a spin."

She did so, making sure to let the ruffles on the skirt flounce, but it was too hard to keep a straight face and she ended up laughing again.

He smiled and lowered the phone. "Beautiful."

Something about the softness in his eyes and tone made her heartbeat stumble. She fidgeted with her hair, warmth pooling on her cheeks.

"Um, thanks for doing all this," she mumbled. "It was … well, it was perfect, actually. I still can't believe you went to so much trouble."

"Anything to cheer you up, princess."

Her heart thudded faster. Oh no. Was she falling for this silly cat?


	4. Day 2: Action!

Day 2: "Just follow me, I know the area."

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**Day 2: Action!**

"Just follow me," Adrien said, taking her hand and pulling her close. "I know the area."

Marinette's cheeks warmed. She opened and closed her mouth, but all that came out was a string of gibberish.

"Cut!" Nino called.

Her classmates groaned in a chorus of "Marinette" and "Every time".

Marinette flushed to the roots of her hair and covered her over-heated face with her hands. "I'm so sorry. I said it was a bad idea to cast me. You should just—"

"Hey," Adrien said, gently gripping her shoulders. "It's okay, Marinette. You're doing fine."

She shook her head, too embarrassed to respond.

"Let's take five," Nino said, and placed the camera down.

Marinette was about to make her escape—there was so much panic and frustration welling up inside her—but Adrien caught her hand.

"Come with me," he said.

"I-I, um, s-sure?"

He led her away from the others to a quieter spot in the classroom. Her heart thudded wildly.

"Remember when you gave me this?" he asked, and held out a familiar bracelet.

"My lucky charm." Her eyes darted to his. "You still carry it with you?"

"Always."

Her heart melted. He was so perfect.

"Knowing I have it with me gives me confidence," he explained, and then gently took her hand and pressed it to her palm. "But maybe you need it more right now."

Her jaw dropped.

"I know you can do this, Marinette. You're perfect for this role." His eyes warmed into a smile. "You just need to have a bit more confidence in yourself."

Some of the tension relaxed out of her shoulders. A smile flitted across her lips and she pressed the charm back to him. "Actually, I think I'll be okay."

His eyebrows rose in question.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the bracelet he had made for her. "I have your charm to give me luck."

The soft look returned to his eyes. "Ready to try again?"

She nodded.

Her crush on Adrien was so overwhelming sometimes that it messed up her words a lot, but he believed in her. He wanted her to act opposite him. There was no way she was going to let him down.


	5. Day 3: Sleepy Cuddles

It's been weirding me out that I'm a day behind (for my timezone), so you're getting two today.

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**Day 3: "Now? Now you listen to me?"**

* * *

**Day 3: Sleepy Cuddles**

"_Now?_" the woman on the laptop screen said. _"Now you listen to me? Oh, that's so typical of you …"_

Adrien shifted, almost dislodging Marinette. His lips twitched into a smile as he glanced down at her. She was curled up against him, eyes closed and a bit of drool clinging to her lip. The blanket they'd been sharing on her bed had somehow got wrapped around her, leaving more than half his body exposed. Not that he was complaining. His Chat Noir suit kept him warm enough, and her shared body warmth did the rest. Still, it was pretty late and he didn't trust his eyes to stay open much longer.

"Hey, princess," he whispered, "I gotta go."

She made a snuffly sound and burrowed her face more into his chest, wrapping her arms around his middle as if he were a teddy bear she wanted to squish hug. It was very, very cuddly. It was also impossible to move without dragging her with him.

"Are you awake?" he asked suspiciously.

She shook her head.

He bit back a laugh and tried to peel her off him (gently), but she only tightened her grip.

"No," she mumbled, voice groggy with sleep. "Stay."

"You know I can't."

"You're warm."

She said it like that was the end of the discussion.

His smile widened and he lightly poked her head. "You should be warm enough, Miss Blanket Thief."

She did not lessen her grip. In fact, she wriggled like a sleepy, blanket-wrapped caterpillar until she was on his lap. "Warm," she breathed, face still hidden against his chest, and indeed had all the appearance of a cat settling in for the night.

Adrien blinked. Okay, he could admit he was quite a physically affectionate guy, but this was a lot of cute girl in his space. The fact they were on her bed didn't help.

"Um … Marinette?"

Soft snores drifted to his ears.

"Are you pretending to be asleep?"

The snores paused, then got louder. He couldn't help but smile. She was adorable.

"You'll have to get better at acting if you want to convince me you're asleep," he teased.

A groggy sound and her hugging him closer was all he got for his efforts. "My kitty," she mumbled. "Stay …"

Flutters stirred in his stomach. She'd never called him "my kitty" before. She'd never called him kitty at all. Not that the nickname was new to him. Ladybug called him that teasingly sometimes, but this was different. This was like being enfolded into warm, warm softness. Like being claimed as someone precious.

Like finding home.

His expression softened and he wrapped one arm around her, allowing his other hand to trail through her loose hair. Well, maybe he could stay for a little longer …

* * *

Honestly, I wasn't feeling this prompt at all – or the last one – so yeah. You'll probably notice me just throwing the prompt words in at random quite a lot for this fictober collection lol.


	6. Day 4: No Matter What

Day 4: "I know you didn't ask for this."

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**Day 4: No Matter What**

"I'm sorry, Adrien," Ladybug said, frowning at the pile of rubble that blocked their only exit. "I don't think I can move this, not without bringing the ceiling down on us."

Adrien tensed. "You mean we're trapped?"

"For now, but don't worry. Chat Noir can get us out with his cataclysm no problem." She opened her yoyo, only to freeze at whatever was displayed on the small screen.

"What?"

"Chat … he still hasn't responded." She forced a smile. "Well, I'm sure he'll turn up soon."

He repressed a wince. "And if he doesn't?"

"He will. He's never let me down."

Adrien managed a strained smile. The moment she looked away, he balled his hands into fists and tried not to start pacing. Much as he was touched by her faith in his superhero persona, they needed to find another way to get out soon. Chat Noir was definitely not coming to their rescue, not when there was no way for him to transform without her seeing.

She stepped away from the rubble. A hiss escaped her and her left foot arched off the ground as if burnt, making her wobble.

Adrien rushed to steady her. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine."

It was then he realised he was holding her waist. His cheeks warmed and he released her. She also blushed and looked off to the side. Real smooth. It was so much harder to play it cool when he wasn't in the suit. No mask meant nothing to hide behind. It was just him and his lady, and his heart kept stuttering all over the place whenever they got close, his tongue got stuck in knots, and now they were trapped together and—

She tried to take another step and flinched, sucking in a sharp breath. Something plummeted in his stomach.

"You're not okay," he said heavily.

She bit her lip. "I think I hurt my ankle."

"That's because you took the full impact of that fall for us." He blinked, realising he sounded a bit too scolding for Adrien Agreste. Heat crawled up his face. "I-I mean, you didn't have to do that. Paris needs you in one piece more than it needs me."

Her eyes turned soft when she met his gaze. "I have a magic suit to protect me. Besides, I didn't want you to get hurt again." She brushed her fingertip against the stinging spot on his cheek—the spot where a bit of metal had snagged skin.

_Thump, thump_.

The quickening beat of his heart pulsed in his ears. His breath caught in his throat. "It's just a scratch," he managed to get out. "It's nothing."

"It's still one scratch too many."

_Thump, thump, thump._

Something shifted in her gaze, becoming more intense. More earnest. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I know you didn't ask for this, and I hope you know it's not your fault that girl got akumatised."

"She is my fan," he felt obliged to point out. "I kind of did cause this one."

"You can't be expected to date every fan who decides to fall in love with you."

Fair point. He'd tried his best to reject the girl as gently as he could, but she'd still been upset enough to become prey to Hawkmoth. Now, he and Ladybug were trapped in this room while that poor girl was mindlessly terrorising Paris. Even from here, he could hear the crashing rumbles and screams.

He twisted his miraculous ring round and round his finger. "U-um, Chat Noir is taking a while, don't you think?"

She checked her yoyo again, but of course there were no messages. "You're right."

"Maybe something happened to him? Maybe he really can't make it."

She bit her lip, thinking deeply. "There is one thing I can try that might be able to help us get out of here, but …"

"But what?"

"If it doesn't work, I'll only have five minutes before I transform back. You'd see me without my mask."

He swallowed. "That seems like a big risk."

"But maybe one I have to take. Hang on."

He didn't get a chance to suggest they discuss it more. Her yoyo was already swinging into the air as she called upon her Lucky Charm. Plastic cat ears fell into her hand. The weight that had settled in his stomach seemed to plummet even more. All he could do was stare at the tacky costume prop.

Cat ears. It just had to be cat ears.

"Huh," she said, peering around the windowless storage room. "I guess we do have to wait for Chat Noir."

"No."

Her gaze darted to his, eyebrows rising in question.

"I'm sorry," he said thickly, backing up a few steps to more space between them. "I really hoped I wouldn't have to do this."

"What are you—"

"Plagg!" He thrust his fist forward, silver ring glinting. "Transform me!"

Her eyes widened like saucers as Plagg appeared from the inner pocket in Adrien's jacket and got sucked into the ring. Green light flared. The transformation was over in seconds, leaving Adrien standing before her in black leather. For the first time, he felt more exposed wearing the mask.

"Um, surprise?" he said with a sheepish wave.

Ladybug screamed.


	7. Day 5: Marinette Has Stopped Functioning

For **ethereal-violett**, who requested a continuation of Day 4.

I also got asked to put up the lovesquare pairing that will feature for each chapter (and I will try my best to remember to do so), but this one is kind of a mess … so we'll just say Ladynoir.

* * *

Day 5: "I might just kiss you."

* * *

**Day 5: Marinette Has Stopped Functioning**

It was hard to focus on the akuma. All Marinette could think was _Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste, Chat Noir is Adrien Agreste. Adrien Agreste is Chat Noir. The boy I love is Chat Noir. Wait, I have rejected the boy I love. Several times. For the boy I love …_

_OH MY—_

"Ladybug!"

Right. She still had an akuma to purify.

One lucky charm, a cataclysm, and a miraculous ladybug cure later, and Chat Noir was holding out his fist for a good old pound it. She blinked. She stared. She probably looked like an idiot who had been caught in the Chatlights.

Her earrings beeped.

"My lady?" He wiggled his fist, eyebrow rising.

She made a real intelligent sound like _abah blaah_.

He lowered his hand and took a step closer. This time she managed a _meep_.

"Um, would it be better if I just leave?" he asked.

"No!"

He paused, waiting with his head titled like a curious cat. No further words wanted to come out of her mouth. Marinette had stopped functioning. (Because she had _kissed_ this boy, more than once, and all that time it had been Adrien she'd been kissing. All that time the gorgeous, sweet classmate she had fallen in love with had been her dorky, pun-loving partner, and she had kissed him, more than once, and—oh no, she was stuck on loop again.)

"You," she said. (A coherent word. Yay!) "You. You …"

(Oops. This was the one-word trap zone. Abort, abort!)

He tilted his head the other way. "Is this because of what happened? Are you mad because you know who I am now? Look, I really am sorry about that. I know you didn't want to know my identity, and I tried to hold out as long as I could, but you wouldn't leave me alone when I kept saying I could get away safely on my own, and then we got trapped in that room and—"

She walked forward and stood up on her tiptoes to grab his cheeks. He froze mid-word. She smooshed his cheeks in to give him fish lips.

"Um," he said, blinking at her with those big green eyes. "Ladybug?"

She stared and stared into his eyes. His cheeks and lips were still smooshed comically.

"It really is you, right?" she asked. "I didn't just imagine that Adrien Agreste turned into Chat Noir right in front of me?"

"Uh, no." He looked off to the side. "Honestly, I was kind of hoping the miracle cure would wipe that bit from your memory …"

She let go of his cheeks. "Wait, you don't want me to know?"

"_You_ didn't want to know! You said it like a million times!"

That was true.

"And now you're being all weird," he accused.

Also true. So painfully true.

"And I just … I just …" He grabbed at his hair, obviously frustrated. "I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted this reveal, if there was to be one, to be something you asked for. I wanted it to be mutual." He grasped her shoulders and his eyes were like green fire when they met hers, burning and intense. "I wanted you to _want_ to know me."

Oh.

_Oh_.

Her mind fizzled, her heart pounded and pounded. She had definitely stopped functioning again. How could she help it when he looked at her all passionately and spoke to her in that tone of voice—the kind that belonged to a hero in some movie declaring his love to the heroine while heavy rain fell all around. (But there was no rain here. There was just her and Chat Noir on a rooftop, her and _Adrien_ on a rooftop, because they were the same person. The two most important boys in her life were the same person, and holy heck now she could see it!)

Her hands clamped back onto his cheeks. He blinked.

"Adrien," she said softly.

"Y-yes?"

Her earrings gave another beep. This time his ring joined in.

"My lady, you're going to transform back soon," he felt obliged to point out. "You only have one spot left."

"I don't care."

"But—"

"I don't care," she repeated, her heart pounding faster and faster until all she could hear and feel was the thundering beat.

There were so many thoughts racing in her mind, so many things she wanted to say. (_I might just kiss you _being very high on the list.) There was a chance Tikki would disapprove of what she planned to do next, but half the truth was already out, and he looked so uncertain and confused. So adorable.

"I do want to know you," Marinette whispered. "And I … I want you to know me. The real me."

His eyes widened.

The final beep. Red and black faded in pink sparkles, and Marinette was left standing in her ordinary clothes, no mask to be seen. Tikki fluttered off inside her purse to recharge with a cookie, mercifully not saying anything.

"Um, hi?" Marinette said, giving him the same awkward wave he had given her.

"You." His eyes softened and he surged forward to wrap his arms around her, holding her tight. "Of course. Of course it's you. My lady, my Marinette, how could I have been so stupid not to see it?"

She closed her eyes and just _melted_ into his embrace. It was a long, long time before they left the roof.


	8. Day 6: Sweet Tooth

Pairing: Marichat

Day 6: "Yes, I'm aware. Your point?"

* * *

**Day 6: Sweet Tooth**

Rain pitter-pattered against the window as Marinette worked on her latest design. Happy hums came from the chaise. Chat Noir's happy hums, in fact. He was reclining on her chaise like some sultry model waiting to be painted for a Renaissance masterpiece—except his entire attention was focussed on the bowl of chocolate chip cookies cradled in his arm. Judging by the hums, he approved of her baking skills just as much as he approved of her parents.

"That's like your sixth cookie," she observed.

"Yes, I'm aware," he said, popping a whole cookie into his mouth so his cheeks puffed out like a blowfish. "Your point?"

Her lips twitched. (He had zero manners when it came to sweet things.) "Don't you think you should slow down? You might make yourself sick."

"You underestimate me, Marinette. This stomach"—he patted his toned abdomen—"was made for accommodating delicious food. And these cookies are delicious. I could eat this whole batch no problem."

A small sound of outrage came from behind the computer.

Chat's cat ears pricked up. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Marinette said, all the while shooting glares at Tikki's hiding place.

"I could have sworn I just heard someone …"

Marinette laughed loudly (and very fake). "Who? We're the only ones here."

His leather ears kept twitching. To her horror, his gaze zeroed in on the computer and he stood up. Her heart gave an odd lurch. No, no, no! If he saw Tikki, it was all over!

She planted herself in front of him, hands pressing against his chest to hold him back. Chat did not appreciate this. His tail swished like a cat impatient to continue the hunt.

"Wait," she said in a rush. "You're not allowed over here yet. I haven't finished my design."

"But—"

"Do you want me to take the cookies off you?"

He gave her wide kitten eyes. "You wouldn't."

"I would."

His grip tightened on the bowl. "But I know I heard—"

"Chat, this is my bedroom, and trust me when I say we are the only ones in it. All that sugar has probably just gone to your head"—she poked him in the forehead to emphasise her point—"and made you imagine things. Either that or you're trying to sneak a peek at my design when I specifically asked you not to."

"I would never," he retorted, clearly offended.

"Then go sit down like a good kitty and wait."

Chat gave one last frowny look at the computer, but he still allowed her to steer him back to the chaise. She forced him to sit, grabbed one of the cookies from the bowl he was still holding, and stuffed it into his mouth.

"There," she said. "Eat this and let me finish."

Without waiting for a response, she marched back to the desk and picked up her sketchpad and pencil. She and Tikki would definitely be having words later.


	9. Day 7: With You

Pairing: Ladrien

I'm going to be _that person_ and recommend you listen to Ludovico Einaudi's song 'Farewell to the Past' while reading, as that's what I listened to while writing this one and it will definitely help set the mood.

* * *

Day 7: "No, and that's final."

* * *

**Day 7: With You**

"_No, and that's final."_

The words reverberate in Adrien's head, ice-steel like his father's tone. Another denial. Another shutdown to what had seemed like a simple request. All he wants is to spend time with his friends, to have _some_ kind of human contact, but all his father gives him are crossed out spots on a schedule and endless nights of isolation.

So Adrien runs. He suits up as Chat Noir and vents his frustration to the rooftops of Paris, to the empty streets and the heavy rain that pours from an inky sky. He runs and runs and runs until even the suit and all its magical enhancements can't stop his chest from heaving. Until his feet stumble and he slumps like some broken thing onto the wet footpath, small and huddled.

He's cold. Paris is bitter in winter and has no warmth to offer tonight. His tears are the only thing that burn. His throat is raw and choked by all the emotions tearing at his chest. It hurts to breathe, to think.

It hurts to be alone.

"Detransform me," he whispers.

Black leather slips away in sparks of green, releasing Plagg from the miraculous. Adrien hugs his knees tight. Goosebumps prickle all over his exposed skin. He's drenched to the bone and the rain keeps falling.

"Kid," Plagg says. "Come on, you can't stay out here."

Adrien shivers and his fingers dig deeper into his knees.

"There's nothing even on this street," Plagg continues. "Worse, there's no delicious camembert, so how about you transform again and we can go back to your room and—erp."

The muffled yelp is odd enough for Adrien to raise his head. Plagg has vanished, but moving toward him is a shadowed figure, sheltering under an umbrella, who glints in red and black with the glowing snatches of streetlights.

Ladybug. It has to be her.

"Hey!" she calls. "Are you okay?"

He's too stunned to move, too stunned to speak. She stops in front of him, holding the umbrella out to cover him, and a gasp escapes her.

"Adrien?"

Suddenly, she's on her knees, umbrella forgotten, and checking him over for injuries. Her voice is full of concern as she asks what happened, what he's doing out here, and a million other things.

"I'm okay," he says, though the words feel like lead on his tongue. "I just … I just went for a walk."

"In this weather?"

He shrugs. "You're out."

"That's different. I'm a superhero and you're"—she takes in his shivers and sodden clothes—"you're freezing. Oh my gosh, we need to get you out of this rain and …"

She hauls him up before he can protest, fussing over him like some clucking mother hen. The umbrella is secured to a holster on her back, and then her arm is tight around his waist and his body is pressed against hers. It's a shock of warmth, a shock of contact that speaks to the touch-starved part of him.

"Hold on tight," she says.

He blinks, cheeks heating despite the chill that's taken root in his body. Then they're soaring, ran pelting down heavier and heavier. It's hardly pleasant, but her smile is warm and reassuring. It eases all the choking tangles in his throat, his chest, his heart.

It helps him breathe.

He holds her tighter, tucking his face into the nook between her neck and shoulder. "Can we …"

"Huh? Did you say something, Adrien?"

"Can we stay like this a little longer?"

She almost loses her grip on him and the yoyo. "What do you mean?"

"I … I'm not ready to go home," he says, unable to stop the words from slipping out. "I just … can we?"

The arm she has looped around his waist holds him a little closer. "It's raining pretty hard. You'll get sick if you stay out here."

He winces. "You're right. I-I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask. I mean you don't even know me and—"

"But I might have an idea."

He blinks and raises his head from the little nook. A smile curves her lips.

"Hang on," she says, and swings them off in a different direction.

**oOo**

She leaves him sheltering under a rooftop veranda so she can get the "supplies" she says they'll need. When she returns, she has a pink backpack full of towels and blankets, two cups, and a thermos flask filled with hot chocolate.

They both towel themselves dry as much as they can before huddling together under the blankets. The warmth is like sinking into a bath. He makes a contented little sound, only to freeze when her shoulder and thigh press against his. She's so close. Everything in him flutters and stirs. This is the girl he loves. He shoots her a glance under his lashes, wonders if he dares to move closer, but shyness holds him back.

It's not like he's Chat Noir right now.

"Here," she says, filling him a cup of hot chocolate.

He accepts the cup, fingers brushing against hers. "Thanks."

Her head tilts and she touches his wet hair, which is a total mess and falling all in his eyes. His heartbeat quickens.

"What?" he says.

There's something about her expression that makes his mouth dry and his pulse stutter.

"N-nothing," she says, giving a small laugh and pulling her fingers away from his hair. "You just reminded me of someone."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter." She bumps her shoulder against his. "Anyway, drink up before it gets cold. This'll warm you right up."

He still waits for her to fill her own cup. It's only good manners. They share a shy smile and tap their cups together in hushed cheers. The hot chocolate is rich and fills him with warmth, just as promised. Even his toes feel a little toastier.

He relaxes more, cradling the cup in his hands.

"Look," Ladybug says, and points up at the sky. "Stars."

A few have dared to peep out. The rain is softening, the night quietening.

She leans against him and tugs the blanket around them more. Pink dusts his cheeks, but the feeling that fills him is more gratitude than passion.

"Thank you for doing this," he says softly.

"Any time."

It sounds like a promise. He really hopes she means it.

* * *

Oh, 500 word max. You always elude me.


	10. Day 8: Become Fire, Become Thunder

Pairing: Marichat

Day 8: "Can you stay?"

* * *

**Day 8: Become Fire, Become Thunder**

"Ready?" Chat says.

Marinette nods.

He throws the bit of chocolate, which she tries to catch with her mouth. It bounces off her nose. She groans as he erupts into laughter and punches his fist to the air.

"Yes!" he crows. "I win!"

"Best of ten."

"No way. Just face it. I'm the champion."

She folds her arms and pouts. "I'm sure you're cheating. You're not even aiming for my mouth, are you?"

"I would never. Besides, it's no fun to win if you only win by cheating."

"Yeah, yeah." She chucks a chocolate at him, hitting him in the forehead. "Here's your prize."

"Throwing chocolate at my head was not the agreed pri—"

She pelts another chocolate at him, then another and another. His eyes narrow. Her lips curve.

"Don't you dare," he says as she reaches for the box of chocolates.

"Or what?"

His tail swishes and flicks behind him. Biting back a grin, she does not break eye contact as she closes her fingers around the last chocolate and launches it at him.

"That's it!" he exclaims.

He pounces on her like a cat. She giggles and tries to squirm free, but he's much stronger. It's easy for him to pin her down against her bed. Smugness gleams in his eyes. His hair tickles her face. That's when it hits like lightning—an inexplicable hyperawareness of all the points of contact between their bodies. Her pulse quickens, fluttery heat unfurling and coiling in the pit of her stomach. Judging by the startled shift in his expression and the light flush spilling out from under his mask, she wasn't the only one struck.

"I …" He audibly swallows and gets off her. "I should go now. It's late."

"Wait."

She catches his hand. Shyness sticks her tongue, but her eyes ask him the question that thrums through her.

_Can you stay?_

A shaky breath escapes him. His gaze flickers from her eyes to her lips and then back again.

Her heartbeat stutters.

"Chat …" She tugs on his hand, shifting onto her knees.

He doesn't pull away. It's like he's spellbound. Or maybe she's the one spellbound. His eyes are so, so green, and the heady warmth of him is like an invisible caress whispering for her to come closer. The stutters turn to pounding drums in her chest, and she holds his gaze as she leans in, pausing when their lips are almost touching. Their breath intermingles.

He closes the gap.

Soft. His lips are surprisingly soft. The kiss is the barest brush of contact, light like the caress of a feather. When he pulls back, her face feels warm and her body even warmer. Their eyes meet—a held breath, a hush of a million questions and a million yesses. Then they're kissing again, hands reaching for each other and bodies pressing closer, closer, closer.

It's like she's drowning and trying to get oxygen. Like she's a dessert and he's offering her a hundred years of missed rain. She drinks him in, shares his breath, tastes the chocolate lingering on his tongue and lips.

She kisses and kisses and kisses him until everything in her becomes a pulsing beat of fire and thunder.

"Marinette," he breathes into her lips.

Her heart sings and she pulls him in closer. They are no longer awkward fourteen year olds after all. She is definitely not letting him escape from her now.


	11. Day 9: Taste Tester

Pairing: Marichat

Day 9: "There is a certain taste to it."

* * *

**Day 9: Taste Tester**

"So?" Marinette says, kneeling in front of Chat and watching him with an eager expression. "What do you think?"

He hums, smacking his lips, and tilting his head from side to side as he holds a half-bitten macaron. "There is a certain taste to it."

Her shoulders slump. "You don't like it."

"No." He holds his hand out in an appeasing gesture. "No, no of course not. It's just … interesting."

"Interesting is the same as saying you hate it!"

"I don't hate it." He stuffs the rest into his mouth. "See, it's great. Mmmm."

"You look like you want to spit it out."

He shakes his head, still stubbornly chewing. His eyes, however, have the look of a tormented soul, and his mouth keeps twisting in odd ways at the corners. It's obvious he's not enjoying her macarons. When he swallows and forces a grimacing smile, all she can do is sigh.

"Chat." She grabs his shoulders. "Be honest. Is it really awful?"

He bites his lip and rubs the base of his neck. "Um, how much do you like this boy again?"

"A lot."

"And have you tasted any of these yourself by chance?"

She shakes her head, blinking innocently.

"Okay."

His tone is too grim, his expression too serious.

"Oh no," she mutters, letting her hands slip back to her lap. Her chest tightens.

"No, no." Now he's the one grabbing her shoulders. "Don't panic. You know I think you're a wonderful baker, Marinette, and I really do think it's sweet you want to bake macarons for your crush …"

"But?"

He meets her gaze with all the solemnity of one about to give the most tragic of news. "If you give these to him, I think he'll wonder if you hate him."

Horror twists her expression. "That bad?"

Chat picks up one of the light green macarons. "Try it."

She bites into it—and gags. "Ugh."

"Yeah," he says, scrunching his nose. "Way too much wasabi."

She spits the bitten bits into her hand, still making disgusted faces and sticking her tongue out as if that will somehow get rid of the taste. "I can't believe you ate a whole one."

A shrug. "You looked so sad when you realised I didn't like it."

"That doesn't mean you had to force yourself!"

He laughs. "It's fine. Besides, cats have nine lives, remember? Even if I did eat that wasabi-poisoned macaron, I still have—"

"Ugh, I take it back! You mangy little …"

He grins and dances away from her swatting hand. She settles for throwing a cushion at him instead. (Which he catches.) There's a beat where they just stare at each other, him still grinning while her lips form a pout. Then the amusement fades from his eyes.

"I am sorry," he says more seriously. "That your macarons didn't turn out, I mean. I know you wanted to do something nice for your crush."

"It's okay. I guess this is a lesson that I should learn to read recipes more thoroughly before I try to get too creative with flavours."

He chuckles and settles back in front of her, propping his chin on the cushion as he hugs it to his chest. "Why did you pick wasabi flavour anyway?"

She shrugs. "It's trending."

This seems to amuse him even more.

"Now that I think about it," she says, "I should have just asked his friend what flavour he likes." She smacks her palm to her forehead. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Well, if you ask me, you should make passionfruit ones."

"Passionfruit?"

"They're the best."

She pokes him in the head. "I'm not making them for you."

"But, Marineeeeeette …"

Her eyes roll as he starts up his dramatics, going on about how he does so much for Paris and even risked wasabi poisoning for her, yadda yadda. Such a silly cat.

"Alright," she says, once he's practically flopped onto her lap, all kitty eyes and pleading. "I'll make you passionfruit macarons."

Her surges up and pulls her into a hug. "Yes! You're the best. I knew there's a reason you're my favourite civilian!"

"Yeah, yeah." She pushes him off, though not hard. "Calm down, you silly cat."


	12. Day 10: Got You, Bro

Pairing: Ladrien

Day 10: "Listen, I can't explain it, you'll have to trust me."

* * *

**Day 10: Got You, Bro**

"Listen," Nino says, pushing Adrien towards the room. "I can't explain it. You'll have to trust me."

"But I thought we were—"

"Trust me!"

With that, Adrien is shoved into the room and the door is closed behind him. He blinks. His jaw drops. Any thought of getting mad at his friend quickly melts as his heart beats faster and his pulse quickens.

Ladybug.

Ladybug is standing at the other side of the room.

"Um, hi," she says.

"H-hi."

Damn. Why is he stuttering? Be cool, be cool, be cool …

"I heard it's your birthday," she says, taking a step closer.

He nods.

"I also heard you were a big fan." A light dusting of pink slips out from under her mask. "Of, um, me."

His face warms. "Y-yeah, I am. You're, um … you're really amazing."

Her blush darkens. (And holy heck, has he actually made Ladybug blush? Is this a dream?)

A small giggle escapes her. "You're not dreaming, Adrien."

Crap, he'd said that aloud?

He rubs the base of his neck and looks the other way, too embarrassed to face her. Yeah, this is definitely not a dream. In his dreams, he is a hundred times smoother. (Also, let it be known that studying good pick-up lines and flirting tips mean nothing when you turn into a gibbering mess while alone with the girl you love.)

She closes the distance between them. There's something about the way she pauses when they're close enough to touch, something about the way she bites her lip and darts a look up at him from under her lashes, that makes his heart pound faster and faster. His mouth goes dry and he licks his lips.

"A-anyway," she says, her gaze not quite meeting his. "I thought I could … I mean your friends asked me to …"

He blinks. Is she nervous? Somehow, it helps ease the screaming panic-delight in his mind. It reminds him that he fights alongside her all the time as Chat Noir, that they're still best friends regardless of how much he wants to proclaim his undying love to her in every way possible. (Also, it reminds him he should stop being a gaping idiot and try to make her feel more comfortable.)

"Yes?" he prompts gently.

She bites her lip, determination hardening her expression. (And for a moment he's distracted by a strange sense of déjà vu.) Then she swoops up on her tiptoes and kisses his check. His eyes widen. Tingles and flutters spread all through him.

"Happy birthday, Adrien," she whispers.

He makes a real intelligent sound like_ uhhmm whaa_, and then she's gone, leaping out the window with her yoyo and soaring off into the night.

Adrien touches his cheek and swallows hard. His heart is still a fluttery mess.

Okay, he's really going to have to thank Alya and Nino. That was the best gift ever.


	13. Day 11: Partners (of a different kind)

Pairing: Adrienette

Day 11: "It's not always like this."

* * *

**Day 11: Partners (of a different kind)**

Marinette slaps her palm to her forehead when she sees the mess of material, buttons, and thread littering her bedroom floor. Ugh, she knew there was something she'd been forgetting. (She'd been so tired last night she'd gone straight to bed instead of cleaning up after her sewing spree.)

"I'm so sorry," she says, spinning to face Adrien. "It's not always like this. Just give me a sec and I'll get this out of the way."

"I can help."

"No, I couldn't ask you to—"

"Marinette." He hits her with that sunshine-soft smile that makes her knees wobble. "I want to help."

"O-okay. Thanks."

They gather everything off the floor. (With a few heart-stuttering moments of hands touching as they reach for the same button or scrap of fabric.)

"Looks like that's everything," he says, surveying her room.

"Y-yeah."

"Shall we get started on that report then?" he suggests.

She nods.

They sit at her desk and get their papers and books ready. It's hard to get her words out (they're like her threads and get tangled with any prodding on her part), but as time passes and he continues to smile at her warmly and ask her opinion on things, some of the nervous tension eases. She can even joke with him as she would Chat Noir. (Probably helps they have a similar sense of humour, as she's quickly realising.)

Her dad pops his head up through the hatch and offers them mini cakes with frosting. Adrien is delighted. (Another thing she's learning: his sweet tooth is as bad as Tikki's.)

Adrien finishes his cake first and she can't help but grin when she sees the frosting stuck to his lip and cheek.

"Um, you have some frosting on you," she says.

"I do?" He wipes at his face with his fingers, missing every time.

She giggles. "No. Over here."

She points at the spots on her face. This time he just smears it on his skin, which only makes her laugh more.

"You do it," he says, shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm clearly a mess today."

Warmth blooms on her cheeks. "O-oh, um, okay …"

She wipes the frosting off carefully, trying not to think too hard about how intimate this is and how soft his skin feels. Her fingertip grazes his lip. Everything in her stills, even her heart. His breath fans her skin, and his eyes seem greener in that moment—shocks of summer grass, and just as warm.

Shakily, she pulls her finger away.

"Thanks," he says.

"A-anytime," she squeaks.

The frosting is on her finger now, and she licks it off, not knowing what else to do. He lets out an odd, choked sort of cough. His eyes are very wide.

"You okay?" she asks.

Pink dusts his cheeks. "Y-yeah. I'm fine. Should we, um, should we get back to the report?"

She nods and fixes her attention back on her book. (Oddly, it's Adrien who does most of the stammering for the rest of their study time together.)


	14. Day 12: It Wasn't Meant to Be This Way

Pairing: Ladynoir

Day 12: "What if I don't see it?"

(For those who enjoy a "soundtrack" of sorts, I'd recommend listening to Eurielle's 'Your Heart Lies Here' for this one. It's what I listened to while writing, and will set the mood I was going for.)

* * *

**Day 12: It Wasn't Meant to Be This Way**

The sky was dark and rumbling. Vivid green eyes, luminous like a cat's, winked at her from the shadows of the Eiffel Tower. Her heart thumped faster.

A damning beep came from her earrings.

"Now that's not a good sound," Chat Noir taunted as he stepped into the light. He'd split his staff and held the twin batons in a deceptively loose grasp.

She balled her hands into fists. "Get back!"

"Or you'll what?" His smile gleamed, sharp like his claws. "This is it, Ladybug. You've lost your champions, your yoyo is useless, and judging by that beep coming from your earrings, I'd say you only have a few minutes left before you detransform. It would be in your best interest to surrender to me now. You must see that."

She wiped the blood from her split lip. "What if I don't see it?"

He laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. There never was. "Then I'd say you're deluded."

He lunged in a streak of black, twin batons coming for her. The metal danced before her eyes in hypnotising silver. Then her hands snapped out and grabbed each end of the weapons. The tips stopped inches from her face. Her arms trembled, boots sliding against the rain-slickened metal as she strained to hold him off. His green eyes burned into hers.

_It's over_, his stare seemed to say. _Just give up._

She gritted her teeth and pushed back, using every ounce of strength she had. He grunted as he was forced to hold his ground, but neither could get the upper-hand. They had always been evenly matched.

"You can't hold me off forever," he hissed. "Your time is running out."

As if to corroborate his words, her earrings gave another beep. Only one spot left.

Panic screamed in her mind, clawed at her chest. Still, she'd been fighting as Ladybug too many years to give up now. She couldn't let Hawkmoth get her miraculous. Paris was counting her.

She grinned and relaxed her hold, but instead of letting the batons bash into her, she flowed with the motion—controlled it so she could slide down and kick his legs hard to knock him off balance. His body toppled ungracefully. Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she scrabbled onto him, desperate, half-snarling through her teeth. She wrenched the batons from his grasp with clawing, tugging fingers and sent both flying. Then she went for his ring.

"Cataclysm!"

Her heart lodged in her throat, but somehow she managed to clamp her hands down on his wrists. Thunder growled. The rain got heavier even as the destructive force of his power swirled above his pinned hand like disintegrating, black stars. His glare gleamed at her in vibrant green.

"Why?" she whispered.

His brow creased. "What?"

She didn't have much time left before her detransformation. Mere seconds at best. Maybe that was why hot prickles stung her eyes. Maybe that was why the words spilled out of her.

"Why are you doing this? Why did you have to side with _him_? My kwami told me it wasn't meant to be this way. She said we were meant to be a team." Tears rolled down her mask. "She said you were meant to help me."

Something flickered in his eyes.

The last beep sounded. Her suit and mask vanished in sparks of pink. Now she was just a bruised woman wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her head bowed in defeat. There was no strength left in her hands—not the kind that could keep Chat Noir pinned down. But he didn't move. He didn't even try to escape her grasp. Nor did he glance at Tikki, who had fluttered weakly onto the ground beside them.

"I-it can't be," he said shakily. "Marinette?"

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name on his lips. He had gone chalk-white and his eyes were wide.

Wide and horrified.

Suddenly, he bolted like a skittish cat—breaking free of her, slamming his destructive power against one of the metal pillars to get rid of it, and then snatched up his batons and disappeared into the night.

It all happened so fast.

It was like he had never been there at all except for the crumbled pillar.

Marinette let out a breath. "Tikki, what the hell just happened?"

"Judging from the way Chat Noir reacted, I'd say he knows you."

Her chest seized up, squeezing her lungs. "But he ran. Why would he run just because he knows who I am? He's been helping Hawkmoth terrorise Paris for years. He's been fighting _me_ for years. My miraculous was right there for him to take. Why would he—"

"Marinette."

It was the sadness in Tikki's voice that did it. Sadness, because of course Tikki didn't need to explain why Chat Noir had run upon realising she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chat Noir really did know her, and it seemed he cared about her as well.

And that meant she knew him.

Marinette's throat burned. She swallowed against the constricting lump and hugged her arms around herself. She didn't know what to do, didn't know what to think. She probably would have stayed there for hours had Tikki not nudged her into motion.

"Come on," Tikki said gently. "Let's go home. Nothing will be solved from staying out here."

"You're right …"

Chat Noir had gone after all.

And now Marinette had to live with the fact that one of her most dangerous enemies was probably also one of her closest friends.


	15. You Really Are Amazing

Interrupting Fictober for this Kwamibuster-inspired fic. Big spoilers ahead for that episode.

* * *

**You Really Are Amazing**

"Chat Noir!" Marinette exclaims, dropping her sketchpad and pencil. "W-what are you doing here?"

He smiles and jumps onto her balcony. "I just came to say thanks." A wink. "You really saved me today, Multimouse."

Ohhh.

The thumping of her heart eases. Of course that's why he's come. There's no way he could have pieced together she's Ladybug, not after she went to so much effort to protect her identity, even going so far as to create an illusion double.

"It was no problem," she says, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. "I was happy to help." An exaggerated slump of her shoulders. "I'm just sorry I let Ladybug down in the end. I forgot that I wasn't meant to remove the miraculous in front of anyone."

He places his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you don't need to beat yourself up over that, though I am disappointed we probably won't get to fight alongside each other again."

"You are?"

"Yeah, you were so good out there." He rubs the base of his neck, looking off to the side. It's an oddly shy gesture. "To tell you the truth, I … I thought you were Ladybug."

She laughs. "That's just because I turned up while Ladybug was away."

"No. I really thought you were Ladybug. It struck me today just how similar you two are."

Her heart quickens and her left eye twitches. "R-really?"

"Yeah. I mean you even have the same hairstyle."

Her laugh is much more forced this time. "Wow, yeah. I guess we do. Never thought about that." _Kill me now. Must change hairstyle._ "But you know I'm really not anything like Ladybug. I mean you've seen how clumsy I am, and she's just so confident and—"

"The girl who saved me today was plenty confident."

"But—"

"Real clever at coming up with plans, too."

She raises her finger. "Actually, that was Ladybug's plan."

"But it wasn't Ladybug's plan that helped us when Evillustrator trapped us in that box."

"Oh …" Her left eye starts twitching again. She's sure her smile is just as twitchy. "You remember that?"

"Of course." He grasps her shoulders, and his expression warms into the softest of smiles. "You really are an amazing girl, Marinette. I'd count myself honoured any day to stop akumas with you."

The sincerity in his tone surprises her just as much as it brings a dusting of pink on her cheeks. "I don't think that's going to happen, Chat. You heard Ladybug."

"Yeah, I know, but a cat can hope."

Her chest warms. This overgrown kitty really can be sweet sometimes.

He pulls her into a brief hug before he steps back. "Anyway, thanks again for coming to my rescue. Fighting akumas in that banana costume wasn't as fun as it apeeled to be."

Her nose scrunches. "Apeeled?"

"I know. The cat puns are much more clawsome."

"That's not what I …" She pauses, huffing out a laugh. Never mind.

He winks and jumps onto the balcony railing. "I gotta go now. See you around, Marinette."

"Bye, Chat."

He gives her a final salute and leaps off, using his baton to propel himself over rooftops. A fond smile curves her lips as she watches him.

"You're pretty amazing too, kitty," she murmurs.


	16. Day 13: Shall We Dance?

Pairing: Marichat

Day 13: "I never knew it could be this way."

* * *

**Day 13: Shall We Dance?**

Soft music is playing from one of the nearby buildings. It's the kind of music that reminds Marinette of smoky jazz bars and the black and white movies her mum likes to watch sometimes—all slow pianos and husky singing, like a lulling stream waiting to carry her off to a different time.

Chat steps away from the balcony railing and holds out his hand to her.

"What?" she asks.

"May I have this dance?"

She laughs and turns her shoulder to him. "Don't be silly."

"I'm not."

Something about his tone makes her heart stutter. She sneaks a peek at him from under her lashes.

"Mariette." He lowers into a bow worthy of a royal court, his green eyes twinkling as he meets her gaze. "It is a beautiful night and you are a beautiful princess. It would be this humble cat's honour if you would dance with him."

Warmth blooms on her cheeks. Does he really think her beautiful or is he just being his usual over-the-top self? It's so hard to tell with him.

He doesn't prod her to give an answer, just smiles and continues to hold out his hand. With the full moon shining down on him like that and a backdrop of jewel-scattered stars, he looks like something from a fairy tale. Her very own cat-eared knight in leather armour.

She slips her hand in his and allows him to guide her to the middle of the balcony. One of his arms loops around her waist, and her hand finds his shoulder. They dance to the music, laughing a little until they find their rhythm and just stare into each other's eyes.

Her heart quickens.

She trips over her own feet, stepping on his toes. He doesn't seem to mind. Instead, his arm tightens around her waist and he pulls her closer so he can rest his head against hers. Fresh warmth pools on her cheeks and her entire body throbs to the beat of her heart. Closing her eyes, she relaxes into him.

The dance turns into a slow sway.

"I never knew it could be this way," he murmurs, almost more of an exhale.

"Hrm?"

"With you."

Her stomach flutters. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I think I might …"

Her mouth goes dry and her heart won't stop pounding. She doesn't dare look at him. "Yes?"

He slows to a stop. His hand leaves hers, but only so he can cradle her face, one gloved thumb caressing her cheek. Never has his eyes looked so soft and warm. Not even when he's given her those love-sick, longing looks when she's suited up as Ladybug.

"What?" she whispers.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile and he bumps his forehead against hers, nuzzling her a little. "Nothing," he murmurs, and guides her back into a sway. "Just that I like dancing with you."

Her heart stutters and flutters (because she knows that is absolutely not what he was going to say), but her own hesitancy stops her from calling him out.

They're tiptoeing around something dangerous. Something that could change everything.

She loops her arms around his neck and leans back into him.

They continue to sway together long after the song stops.


	17. Day 14: Internally Screams

Pairing: Adrienette

Day 14: "I can't come back."

* * *

**Day 14: Internally Screams **

In another life, one where Marinette wasn't expected to transform into Ladybug and save the day, she might have thanked the akuma. Maybe. Actually, probably not, because Adrien Agreste is currently on top of her, hip to hip, and all she can think is that she didn't wash her hair this morning.

Also, her hand is stuck on his butt.

"I am so sorry," she mumbles, fire creeping over her cheeks and up to her ears. "I am so, so sorry for this."

His own face is a permanent pink. "Um, it's okay. I know you can't help it."

Which is true. The goopy stuff that the akuma threw at them won't let her move her hand even a centimetre. It also won't let her and Adrien separate. They are stuck together unless she wants to risk calling on Tikki to help. (And who knows if that would even work. Chat Noir is the one with destructive powers.)

Adrien bites his lip, drawing attention to the peach-pink softness. It's a shame the goopy stuff didn't make their lips stick together.

Wait, no. Those are bad thoughts. Bad, bad thoughts. Right now she needs to focus on getting out of this mess, not think about what it would be like to kiss Adrien. (Even if his lips are _right there_ and she can feel his breath on her skin, and his eyes looks so lovely and green in the sunshine, and—

"Let's hope Ladybug turns up soon," he says.

A strained smile. "Or Chat Noir. C-can't forget about him, right?"

"Yeah …"

They both look the other way.

She tries very hard not to flex her hand. (Not because she wants to feel his butt up more. She's just getting cramp in her fingers. Honest.)

Something vibrates between where their hips are pressed against each other. His eyes snap back to hers, and though he seems startled, his mouth soon quivers as if he's trying not to laugh.

"Um, Marinette, I think you're buzzing."

"It's my phone," she wails, squeezing her eyes shut so she won't have to face him. "Someone must be calling me. I can't help it!"

He laughs. "Sorry, sorry. I shouldn't tease."

She peeps at him through her lashes. The soft, reassuring smile he gives her turns her whole body to mush.

"Wait," he says, perking up and looking down at her with brightening eyes. "Marinette, your phone!"

"Huh?"

"I think I might be able to reach it. We can get help!"

"B-but how? It's stuck between us."

"I can still kind of move one of my arms, but, um …" He bites his lip again, cheeks flushing. "I, um, will have to touch you."

Her breathing stops. If her heart is still beating, she can't tell.

"Marinette?"

Everything boots to life and words are spilling out of her in a rush. "Adrien Agreste, you can touch me however you like."

He blinks.

"I m-mean for this. Of course you can much tea. I mean touch me. For the phone! Just to find the phone!"

He nods, still looking a bit lost. "Alright."

She swallows, heart thumping, as he carefully slides his hand down between them. _Oh my gosh, _her dazed, firework-exploding mind thinks,_ This is really happening. This is really, really happening._

"O-okay?" he asks, chancing a glance at her.

She nods frantically. "Fine. Totally fine."

His fingertips graze her skin where her shirt rode up. _(Skin contact, oh my gosh!_) He swallows audibly. There isn't much space thanks to all the hardened goopy stuff that has them plastered to the ground. (Not to mention each other.) He has to really dig between them, trying to get at her pocket where her phone is held. She dies in a mess of tingles and flutters at every touch.

"Got it," he breathes.

"G-great."

His brow furrows as he wiggles and tugs at the phone until he's holding it awkwardly near his shoulder. Both their faces are bright red. Then his eyes widen.

"Oh," he says. "You have a picture of me as your—"

"FASHION!"

He blinks.

"I-I mean it's because I like fashion. And you are a model. Fashion model."

His lips twitch. "Right, I remember now. You're a fan of my father's line."

"Yep! That's me! Big fan!" She laughs nervously, even as she internally screams.

Mercifully, he accepts the explanation and asks her for her passcode.

"Looks like Alya tried to call you," he says. "Let's call her back. She should be where Ladybug is, right?"

"Or Chat Noir."

"Right. Or Chat Noir."

He hits the button to call Alya and sets the phone to speaker.

"Girl!" Alya's voice comes through. "Where have you been? I've been trying to call. You need to get back here."

"I can't come back," Marinette says. "There's been an akuma attack."

"What!"

As if on cue, the akuma alert sirens go off to warn the citizens to get to safety. Alya gets very excited, claiming she just spotted the akuma and now she's gonna follow it so she can film it for her blog.

"No, Alya, wait! You need to—"

"I'll call you back, girl!"

"Alya!"

The line goes dead. Adrien and Marinette stare at each other.

"So, that failed," he observes.

Marinette groans. This is really turning into a mess.


	18. Day 15: You Can't Do That

Pairing: Ladynoir

Day 15: "That's what I'm talking about!"

* * *

**Day 15: You Can't Do That **

"Why did you do that?" Marinette exclaims, tucking her yoyo away and advancing on Chat with her hands clenched.

"Do what?"

"Don't give me that innocent face."

She wants to scream at him. How dare he act so calm! Just moments ago he'd been vanishing to nothing in her arms. He'd been _dying_. If it weren't for the miracle cure and the fact Hawkmoth wanted the cat miraculous so much that he'd called off the akuma, even allowed her to purify it, Chat Noir wouldn't exist right now. He'd be gone.

This stupid cat would be nothing but ether.

"I just did what was necessary," he says. "You're the only one who can—"

"That's what I'm talking about! You keep acting like you have to throw yourself in danger for me, but you don't!"

"Yes, I do."

She opens her mouth to retort, but he gets there before her.

"We're partners, but you're the one with the powers of creation. You're the one who can purify akumas and reset everything back to normal. Paris needs _you_."

"That doesn't mean you have to try get yourself killed!"

He has the nerve to soften his voice, trying to sooth her with his more reasonable tone. "Look, I love being alive and in one piece as much as the next cat. It's not like I want to take those risks, but—"

"No, you listen!" She closes the distance between them, poking him hard in the chest. "You don't get to talk right now!"

"Ladybug—"

"Shut up!"

He does, for once. Then again, maybe he only goes quiet because her eyes are hot and prickling. Maybe it's because her fingers curl into the leather of his suit and she presses her face to his chest, letting his heartbeat play against her cheek.

"I was scared," she admits.

Her voice is hushed and small, a vulnerable thing. He wraps his arms around her without hesitation. Solid, warm, secure. He feels so real, but even that can't stop her from shaking.

"I was really scared, Chat."

"I knew you'd bring me back."

"But what if I didn't? What if I'd failed?" She squeezes her eyes shut. "Have you ever wondered what would happen then?"

"You always figure out a way. There's no way you could fail."

"You don't know that!"

Suddenly, she's grabbing at his shoulders, fingers digging in as she tugs him down and meets his gaze with burning intensity. His eyes widen. Their faces are close now. Oh so close. It shocks her like lightning, splintering the fear and anxiety with something warmer. Something that reaches deep inside her and snatches the breath from her lungs, that makes her moisten her lips and swallow against her spiking pulse and the sudden dryness in her throat.

"You don't know that," she says softly.

Their breath intermingles as they stare into each other's eyes. His arms tighten around her waist. His face dips ever so slightly.

So close.

Too close.

"My lady," he whispers, "stop me if you don't want this."

She closes her eyes.

Their lips touch in a gossamer caress. It's so achingly light. She lingers a hairsbreadth away, eyes still shut, the first tears rolling free down her cheeks. Her heart pounds and pounds. Then she surges up again and kisses him. Kisses him harder, greedily. Kisses him like she's trying to memorise everything about his mouth—his taste, the yielding softness, all the sweetness and intensity she can get.

She doesn't want to stop, and he doesn't either. It's only the jarring beep from her earrings that makes them break apart.

Their eyes meet as they let go of each other. He's flushed and his chest is rising and falling too fast. Not that her breathing is any less ragged. She's never been kissed like that before.

"I …" She licks her lips, swallows hard. "I-I should probably go. The transformation will wear off soon."

He nods, but the moment she turns away, he yanks her back by her wrist and pulls her into a searing kiss. "Goodnight, my lady," he murmurs.

Her heart is still pounding when she gets home and lets her transformation drop.


	19. Day 16: No PDA Allowed

Pairing: Marichat

Day 16: "Listen. No, really listen."

* * *

**Day 16: No PDA Allowed**

"Listen," Marinette says, grabbing Chat's arm.

"But the—"

"No, really listen." She grabs his face, smooshing his cheeks slightly. "I need you to kiss me."

His eyes go wide. "W-what?"

"Kiss me now, Chat!"

He does.

It's hardly a romantic kiss—just a clumsy smash of lips and a slight clinking of teeth. She keeps him in place, lips still mashed against his, and sneaks a glance out of the corner of her eye at the akuma. Sure enough, the man is so distracted that he has stopped his mass terrorising. He's also blushing furiously.

"How shameless!" he exclaims, covering his eyes. "Kissing in public!"

Marinette pulls her lips away with a grin. "All yours, Chat."

Chat blinks. "U-um. Right."

She doesn't wait around to see how her partner fares. Tikki should have recharged by now. Time to transform back to Ladybug and purify this akuma.

* * *

This is super short, but I was not feeling this prompt at all. Like at all.


	20. Day 18: Sleepover

Pairing: Marichat

Just a heads up that Day 17 is a separate one-shot from this collection, so jumping straight to 18. Also, I've fallen a bit behind with replies (sorry about that), but hopefully I can get to them tomorrow. Either way, thanks for all the comments!

Day 18: "Secrets? I love secrets."

* * *

**Day 18: Sleepover**

"You are surprisingly good at this," Marinette observes.

Chat grins. They're both sitting on the floor in her bedroom, pillows, cushions and snacks dotted around them. Her foot rests on his knee as he applies pink nail polish to her toes. "I have many skills you don't know about," he says.

"Clearly."

He puts the last stroke of pink to her little toe with a flourish and moves onto her other foot. Soft music plays in the background, and he hums along during the chorus, his head nodding from side to side. It's cute. _He _is cute. It's a thought that hits her a lot these days. Of course she's always known he's attractive, but this is a different sort of cuteness—the kind that makes her want to squish his cheeks with her hands or snuggle him like he's a cuddly, cat-boy blanket.

"What?" he says, glancing up at her.

"I was just thinking that if you really want this to be an authentic sleepover, I should do your nails next."

(She wasn't thinking that, of course. She is a big, fat liar, but there is no way she's going to admit how cute she finds him.)

He snorts, head bowed as he continues to apply nail polish. "Much as I wouldn't mind, I'm not sure my kwa—I mean this suit and pink nail polish will go well together."

She bites the inside of her cheek so she won't smile. His kwami. Yes, Plagg probably would not be happy if she applied nail polish to the suit.

"And since I can't remove the suit without exposing my identity to you, which would not be good for you and would most definitely bring Ladybug's wrath upon me"—he places the brush back in the bottle of polish and wiggles his claws at her—"I think it's best we leave these black."

She smiles and stretches back on her palms. "Guess so."

He finishes applying the nail polish and sets the bottle down. "Alright, that's drying. What's next on the agenda?"

"You're really serious about this?"

"I'm a curious cat, and this curious cat would like to experience the mysteries of a girls' sleepover."

Now it's her turn to snort. "Fine. I suppose I can share some mysteries with you."

He flashes his trademark grin, toothy and playful.

"Let's see …" she says, tapping her finger to her chin. "Well, when Alya and I really want to pamper ourselves, we do face masks."

His ears droop. "I don't think that'll work." He points at his black mask.

"Probably not."

His complexion is flawless anyway. (At least from what she can see that is not covered.) He does not need a face mask. Then again, that isn't really the point, not when it comes to sleepovers. It's just the experience of doing pampering activities with someone else. (And, now that she thinks about it, maybe that's why Chat is so intrigued by the whole thing. She pieced together long ago that his civilian life is a lonely one.)

"There must be other things we can do, right?" he says, all earnest and hopeful. "Things my suit and mask won't get in the way of. What else do you and Alya do?"

"Mmm, watch movies, do each other's hair, tell each other secrets—"

"Secrets? I love secrets." He wiggles his eyebrows. "I bet you have some juicy ones as well, Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng. They always say it's the nice ones you have to watch out for."

"I am not telling you my secrets."

"Oh, c'mon!" He leans forward, face suddenly inches from hers. "It'll be fun. I'll tell you mine, too."

She pushes him back with a finger to his nose. "Don't you have an identity to protect?"

"I won't say anything that'll compromise that. We can just share harmless ones, you know?" He sits back on his haunches like an eager kitty. "Look, I'll even start." He clears his throat, trying to amp up the drama. "Now I know this is going to seem hard to believe since you see me fighting akumas all the time and, you know, being all heroic and—"

"Get to the point, Chat."

"I'm a scaredy cat when it comes to horror movies."

She blinks. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. They freak me out. I can't watch them alone at all, and it's too embarrassing to watch them with others since I, uh, get kind of clingy."

Her eyebrow rises. "Kind of?"

"Alright, fine. The last time I watched a horror movie with a friend, I ended up half on his lap and he said I clung to his arm so hard that I made it go numb."

She laughs and ruffles his hair. "Now that I would pay to see."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." His expression shifts back to playful. "Anyway, it's your turn. Hit me with a secret."

"Hmmm, I used to do ballet."

His eyes widen. "Really? You did?"

She folds her arms. "Why so surprised?"

"Well, I mean you're kind of … clumsy."

A sigh escapes her. "Yeah, I know. That's actually why I gave it up. Can't be a ballerina when you're a walking disaster."

"I don't think you're a walking disaster."

Aww.

"You just have, uh, stability challenges sometimes."

Her lips purse and she hits him lightly on the arm, even as his eyes spark and his mouth twitches.

"Keep that up and I'll cross hair playing off our sleepover agenda," she warns.

It's like dangling catnip in front of a kitten. He leans closer and paws at her hand. "We get to play with each other's hair?"

"Uh, yes?"

His gaze darts to her pigtails. "Can I play with yours now?"

She can't help but laugh at how delighted he seems, so she simply nods. The next moment he's scooched himself behind her and removes her hair ties. The black strands tumble free. His touch is gentle as he combs his clawed fingers through her hair. It feels heavenly.

"Tell me another secret," she says, eyes closing as he keeps up his soothing ministrations.

He goes quiet, and when he does speak his voice is hushed. "I miss this."

"Huh?"

"My mum … she used to let me play with her hair. It was really long, and she'd let me do whatever crazy styles I liked. I miss it. I …" He swallows audibly. "I miss her."

Without hesitation, Marinette twists around to face him and pulls him into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Chat," she whispers.

He holds her close before he pulls back, rubbing the base of his neck. "Sorry. Guess I kinda spoiled the mood there."

"You don't have to apologise for anything."

His expression softens and he touches a lock of her hair, his eyes meeting hers for a few heartbeats of thanks. Then his gaze shifts and his jaw drops. "Oh no!"

"What?"

"Your toes! The nail polish is all ruined!"

Marinette covers her face with her hands to stifle giggles as he continues to fret and bemoan the destruction of all his hard work. He really is such a dramatic kitty.


	21. Day 19: So That Just Happened

Pairing: Marichat

Day 19: "Yes, I admit it, you were right."

* * *

**Day 19: So That Just Happened **

Marinette makes a sleepy sound and wriggles closer to the source of warmth curled around her. Wait. Her body goes rigid from head to toe, heart pounding double-time. She opens one eye and glances down. Yep, that is definitely an arm wrapped around her waist. Also, she isn't wearing anything except a handmade mask. Also, this isn't her room.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no.

This is real. She really got that drunk last night at the costume party. She really shoved her tongue down that Mister Bug's throat after they'd been grinding shamelessly against each other on the dancefloor for who knows how many songs. (Not to mention went upstairs with him to this room where they had discarded everything but their Mister Bug and Lady Noire masks—for the thrill of anonymity—and done a whole lot more.)

Her cheeks burn. Anonymity means nothing when you pass out together and wake up spooning.

This is bad. This is really, really bad.

She's never had a one-night stand before. Until last night, she'd never had sex either, yet here she is no longer a virgin and all too conscious of the fact that her first time was with a guy whose name and face she doesn't know. (And all because his dumb blond hair and bright green eyes had been a siren song to her hormones.)

She tries to slip free of his hold, desperate to escape or at least put some space between them. Too bad this just makes him hug her closer and nuzzle his face into her neck.

"Mmm, my lady," he murmurs into her skin.

Her eyes widen to saucers. _No_. No, no, no, no.

Suddenly, she's surging free of his arms and sitting up, hands fumbling for the sheet to cover her breasts. He blinks at her sleepily, red and black mask slightly askew but still covering most of the upper half of his face. His blond hair is messier than ever.

"Chat Noir!" she splutters.

He freezes.

"Oh my gosh!" she wails, pulling the sheet up over her head so she's completely hidden. "It _is_ you!"

"N-no, I'm … uh …"

"I can't believe this!"

The mattress dips as he sits up. "Wait, _Marinette_?"

Eep.

"W-who's Marinette?"

"Really?" he says. "That's how you want to play this?"

Her blush spreads down her chest and up to the tip of her ears. (Not that he can see it.) "I have no idea yacht war talking about. I-I mean no idea what you're talking about. I don't know any Marinettes."

A sigh. "I know it's you."

Silence.

"Marinette, come on. Just admit it already."

"Alright, yes! I admit it! You were right! I'm Marinette. Happy?"

There's a slight pause.

"Are you really going to keep hiding under that sheet?"

She nods. (Even if she does probably look like a person trying to dress up as a ghost.)

More silence. A clock ticks from somewhere in the room.

"Is it that bad?" he asks, his voice small and fragile as glass. "Am I … am I that awful to you?"

"What? No!"

"Well, that's what it seems like when you won't even look at me."

She bites her lip. "I'm embarrassed, okay? I-I've never done this before. I don't know how to … I mean that was my first time last night, and it's _you_, and I just don't … I don't how to process all this. I'm sorry."

The mattress shifts again. It feels like he's moved closer. "If it makes you feel better, it was my first time as well."

"R-really?"

"Yeah."

"But you seem so calm."

"Oh, no. I'm freaking out. Trust me on that."

Her lips twitch into a tiny smile. It's a few more seconds before she emerges from the sheet, little flyaway hairs static all over her head. She tugs off the black Lady Noire mask and shyly meets his gaze.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi."

Pink dusts on both their cheeks. They stare and stare at each other.

Yeah, this has definitely screwed up their friendship.


	22. Day 20: Something Bugging You?

Pairing: Ladynoir

Have two today since I fell a day behind.

Day 20: "You could talk about it, you know."

* * *

**Day 20: Something Bugging You? **

He finds Ladybug sitting near the top of the Eiffel Tower, legs dangling over the side. Her expression is pensive as she stares at the usual crowd of tourists milling below. Or maybe it's the sunset that has caught her attention? Streaks of orange and pink arc across the sky in intertwining threads and bathe the city in a rosy glow.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he says. "Though of course it's not as beautiful as you, Bugaboo."

She stirs and glances up at him. "Oh. Hey, Chat."

His brow creases. Something is off. It's in the slight drooping of her shoulders, the dullness in her eyes despite her smile. She's like a sunflower starving for brightness.

"Everything okay?" he asks, taking a seat next to her.

"Why would you think it isn't?"

"Uh, because I called you beautiful and Bugaboo in one sentence and you didn't tell me off or roll your eyes."

"Maybe I'm just used to your flirting now."

"Or maybe you're trying to deflect the question."

She sighs and looks the other way.

"You can talk about it, you know," he says. "I'm all ears."

Silence.

"Come on, Bugaboo." He nudges her with his elbow, putting on an extra big grin. "Tell me what's _bugging_ you."

"Right now it's you."

Or so she says. He still catches the way the corner of her lips twitch upwards.

"Ha!" he exclaims. "I made you smile!"

"You did not."

"Did too!"

A full smile forms and she lets out a dramatic sigh. "Fine. Your dumb pun made me smile. Happy?"

"I am, actually."

She laughs and shakes her head, and for a moment they just sit there together, feet swaying to the same rhythm.

"Seriously, though," he says. "You can talk to me, you know. We're partners, and I like to think we're friends as well."

"We are friends …"

"But?"

Her sigh is smaller this time but somehow so much heavier. "This problem is a little too personal, kitty. I don't think I can tell you without giving away too much."

"Right." He bites back his own sigh. "The identity thing."

They're both quiet. Her shoulders have slumped again and her mouth is starting to droop as well. This won't do. He hates seeing her sad, and it's even worse when there's nothing he can do to help.

Wait. Maybe there is one thing he can do, at least if she'll let him.

"How about a hug then?" he says.

Her eyes meet his. "You know what? I'd really like that."

He opens his arms and lets her crash into his chest. Then he simply holds her close. Her hair tickles his chin and her arms tighten around his waist. They stay that way for a long, long time.


	23. Day 21: Just Say It

Pairing: Adrienette

Day 21: "Change is annoyingly difficult."

* * *

**Day 21: Just Say It **

"Change is annoyingly difficult," Marinette mumbles.

Adrien blinks and looks up from his book, finger pressed to the page so he won't lose his place. "Sorry?"

The two of them, plus Nino and Alya, had gathered in the library to do a group project, though Nino and Alya had vanished off somewhere. Marinette had buried her head in her books and barely spoken a word to him since. (And though Adrien will never admit it, her obvious reluctance to talk to him bothers him a lot. Aren't they supposed to be friends?)

She frowns at her hands. "I keep coming up with all these plans, keep telling myself I'll change, but it always ends up like this."

He tilts his head. "Um …"

Would it be rude to say he's totally lost? Because he is.

Her expression steels and she presses her hands flat to the table, pushing herself to her feet. "You know what, I'm going to do it. I'm just going to say it."

"Uh … great?"

She marches around the table, her hands balled into fists and her cheeks pink. His eyes widen. Suddenly, he can't budge at all. It's like his legs are frozen to the chair—frozen at the sight of this normally sweet girl who is now striding towards him like she's about to conquer him and the world with it. He swallows audibly, meeting her gaze.

"Adrien Agreste," she says.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm in lo—"

Sirens go off. Another akuma attack.

Marinette curses. (And that makes him blink as well. He has never heard her say a word like that.)

"Now?" she growls. "You have to do this now, Hawkmoth?"

Adrien tentatively raises his hand. "Uh, Marinette—"

Her gaze snaps back to him, all bluebell sparks and fire and … wow.

"We will talk later," she says.

His stomach flutters and something short-circuits in his brain. (Because that's the only explanation for why he salutes her like an idiot.) "Yes, ma'am."

She dashes off in a blur of black pigtails and pink. Adrien lets out a breath and slumps down on his chair. Wow. Just wow. He knows Marinette has a feisty side, but he's never seen her like that. Never seen her take charge so thoroughly or show such a striking resemblance to—

Wait, the akuma!

Adrien scrambles off the chair and runs for some decent cover so he can transform. He can't leave his lady waiting.


	24. Day 22: You and Me

Pairing: Adrienette/Ladynoir

(Part 2 of the enemies AU – chapter 14)

Day 22: "We could have a chance."

* * *

**Day 22: You and Me**

Rain falls. Everyone else is hidden under umbrellas, but not her. She stands on the sidewalk: a splash of familiar black pigtails and a pink scarf wrapped around her throat. Kind but oh so forgetful Marinette.

Adrien closes his eyes, inhales deeply, but his feet don't move.

Hesitance curls around his ankles like chains. Sticks his feet. His heart is lodged in his throat and he wants to turn back, turn back, turn back, because he still doesn't know if this is the best decision. (Father has made it clear what his orders and expectations are, and Mother is still waiting in her glass coffin for a kiss of magic that will only come if Hawkmoth wins.)

Yet even now Adrien can't forget that night on the Eiffel Tower. He can't forget seeing his enemy take on the face of the woman he likes, nor the sight of her tears, nor the words she said to him in that small, bitter voice.

"_My kwami told me it wasn't meant to be this way. She said you were meant to help me." _

It hurt then. It still hurts now.

He's hated being Chat Noir from the first day Plagg came to him. Hated every time he's been forced to transform, hated every battle he's fought. Countless upon countless times, he's wondered what would have happened if he hadn't freaked out so much and shown his father the ring. If he had just_ listened_ to Plagg and kept his miraculous a secret.

Now, after hearing Ladybug's words, he thinks he knows.

A different life.

He could have had that. A life where maybe he didn't know his father was Hawkmoth. A life where he wasn't commanded to terrorise a city, didn't have to be the villain. A life where that gouging mantra of the _end justifies the means_ didn't have to exist, because he would have been at her side.

She would have been at his.

Adrien curls his fingers tighter around the ring trapped in his hand—cool metal pressed against skin—and marches over to Marinette. Her gaze catches his as he stops and holds his umbrella over her, and just like that he's aware sheknows. It's in her widening eyes, the way her body stiffens, her clenched hands.

So, she figured him out. Or at least suspects he is Chat Noir.

"Adrien," she says, low and wary.

"I'm not here to fight."

Her gaze darts left and right and her body tenses even more. He's just showed all his cards, removed any doubts she might have had. It's obvious she doesn't understand why.

"I just came to give you this," he says, and holds up the cat miraculous ring.

"W-what?"

He grasps her hand—still slack from her shock—and presses the ring into her palm. "Maybe in another life I was meant to help you, but I think we can both agree in this one I messed up big time." He closes her fingers around the metal. "Take it. Give it to someone who actually deserves it."

Her lips part slightly and something that might be sorrow flickers in her eyes.

"Oh, and here," he says, pressing the umbrella into her free hand. "Try not to forget yours next time. I won't always be there to lend you mine."

"Adrien …"

He can't bear to look at her any longer, can't bear it when he thinks of all the could-have-beens, so he turns quickly.

Her hand tugs him back.

The umbrella is forgotten on the concrete, and rain slicks trails down both their faces. His heart pounds faster.

"Why?" she asks, an echo of her question that night. "Why did you side with him?"

His eyes prickle, hot and stinging, and his voice is the barest whisper when he speaks. "Because he's my father. Hawkmoth is my father."

"_What_? But—"

"I'm sorry, Marinette." Adrien slumps, bones suddenly aching with weakness. He wants to fall onto his knees at her feet and weep out all his shame and regret. "I'm so, so sorry. I just … he told me we could have a chance. We could wake up Mum if we used the wish, and I _wanted_ that. I thought I could finally get my family back."

Marinette's grip tightens on his sleeve. "Your mum?" She sounds dazed. "Hawkmoth is trying to save your mum? That's what all this has been about?"

He nods. When he notices the tremor of pity in her expression, that tiny sliver that could whittle away at her sense of justice and rightness, it steels something deep within him. Ladybug is not allowed to look like that. Not for Hawkmoth, not even for him.

He grabs her arm and meets her gaze. "Hey, don't give that face. Just because my father's goal isn't to take over Paris doesn't excuse anything he or I have done. You know he's been hurting people for years—using them, manipulating them. He's made people terrified of their own emotions, and I helped him do that." He glares into her eyes, wanting her to see. "I was selfish, Marinette, and my father was selfish, and my mother made her choice long ago, and that's why you can't pity any of us. Just do your job. Stop him. Stop all this."

Her lips curve into a small, humourless smile. "Don't worry. I know what I have to do. I just … never expected this, I guess."

He lets go of her arm. "Well, now you know."

They stare at each other, rain falling all around. So many words are exchanged in the silence. It's an aching breath of understanding, of being so close yet still so far.

(This is what they could have been. This is what he lost when he chose selfishness over heroism.)

"Anyway, you don't have to worry about me," he says, turning to leave. "I won't fight you anymore."

"What will you do?"

He swallows, standing with this back to her. "Nothing can change the things I've done. When this is all over, I'll turn myself in and pay for my crimes. But for now … I guess it's goodbye to Paris."

Her fingers pluck at his jacket. "Wait."

His heart thumps and he slowly turns to face her. She holds the ring out to him on her palm.

"Why don't you help me?" she asks.

He recoils. "You can't be serious."

"I am."

"But I was your enemy."

"I know."

"I helped him hurt you. Helped him hurt so many others. I did all those awful, awful things."

"I know." She touches his cheek, her voice softening. "I know, Adrien. But that's why I'm asking you to be my partner. The guardian chose you to be the bearer of the cat miraculous for a reason, and though you lost your way for a while, I think you've found it now." She once more offers him the ring. "So, will you do it? Will you help me this time?"

A lump forms in his throat. It's choking and only gets bigger with every second that passes. Tears roll down his cheeks, mingling with the rain. (Because even if he has always hated being Chat Noir, there's something about the thought of fighting at her side that feels so _right_.)

"I don't know if I should," he whispers. "I … I messed up so bad, Marinette."

"Then trust me." She presses the ring into his hand. "Because I know Chat Noir can be more than a villain. He just needs to be given a second chance."

Adrien shakily closes his fingers around the ring, feeling its familiar metal kiss his skin. She smiles and pulls him into her arms.

For the first time, he feels like he's where he belongs.

* * *

Ha! Take that, enemy AU! I made you get a decently happy ending after all!

(This one was trying to be super angsty and depressing as heck, and I was so offended at the ending it kept wanting to have that I spent hours fixing it, and now it's 4am and I have no regreeeeeets.)


	25. Day 23: Don't Ignore a Cat

Pairing: Marichat

Day 23: "You can't give more than yourself."

* * *

**Day 23: Don't Ignore a Cat (or the cat will get you back)**

"You can't give more than yourself."

Marinette raises her head from her sketchbook to look at Chat. "Huh?"

"It's an inspirational quote."

Her brow creases. "Okay, and why are you sharing random inspirational quotes with me?"

"I didn't. Rose did. I simply read it aloud."

It's then she notices the phone in his hand. Her phone. A shriek escapes her and she scrabbles over, trying to snatch it from him. His dumb long arms easily keep it out of her reach.

"You nosy little—give me that!" she war cries.

His green eyes dance with mischief and he leans back, stretching his arm even more to keep the phone from her. "You should really remember to lock your phone, Marinette."

"Give it!"

"What's the magic word?"

Marinette responds by clambering on him and smushing her hand into his face, half pushing him to the floor as she reaches for the phone. He laughs and snags an arm around her waist. The next second she's underneath him and he's looking down at her, a lazy smile on his lips. Her heartbeat stutters. It's only because he wiggles the phone at her all McSmugface Smug that she's able to school her expression into pursed lips and narrowed eyes. (Even if her heartbeat continues to fumble.)

"You know, Marinette," he says. "You have a lot of pictures of Adrien Agreste on your phone."

Heat sweeps over her cheeks. "It's because I like fashion."

"So you've said before." His nose almost bumps hers as he leans closer. "But now I'm wondering if that's the only reason."

"W-why wouldn't it be?"

"Mmm, I dunno. Maybe because most of these pictures are head shots. Makes me wonder if you're admiring the fashion or the face."

The heat turns to fire. She must be as red as a tomato. "Th-that's not true. I just … um …."

"Liar, liar. I caught you."

"Did not. Because I'm not lying, so there."

"Are too." The mischief sparkle is back in his eyes. "I think you liiiiiiike him."

Now the tips of her ears feel hot. "Shut up."

"Oohhh, you do."

She huffs and flops back against the floor. "Fine, I have a huge, embarrassing crush on Adrien. Happy? Can you get off me and give my phone back now?"

His smile does terrible things to her heart. (This stupid, attractive cat.) "Not yet," he says. "Cuddle time first."

His arms come around her, holding her extra close. She gives a token grumble but otherwise relaxes into his hug. A low purr hums from him.

"I'm still mad at you for snooping around in my phone, you know," she mutters.

"I know." He nuzzles into her hair. "But it was worth it. At least now you're paying attention to me."

She rolls her eyes even as a smile curves her lips. Sometimes he is such a needy little kitten.


	26. Day 24: Loophole

Pairing: Ladrien

This one is a little steeeeeamy.

Day 24: "Patience … is not something I'm known for."

* * *

**Day 24: Loophole**

Adrien's heart thumps and thumps. It's not the first time he's made out with Ladybug in his bedroom, but her kisses are more demanding tonight, more daring. She straddles his lap on the sofa, fingers tangling in his hair and sliding under his loose t-shirt. His breath catches in his throat and his blood hums to her touch.

It drives him crazy.

She is driving him crazy.

Her teeth tug lightly on his lower lip, and he groans into the kiss.

"Ladybug," he murmurs, pulling back.

She follows him, slanting her lips against his and teasing him with her tongue. Another groan escapes. He gets lost in a haze of her kisses, her touch. His pulse races and races, and his hands skim her sides and up her back, itching to feel more than just the textured material of her suit. That building desire should probably alarm him, but it's hard to think straight when his girlfriend is kissing him like she wants to steal his breath and memorise everything about his lips.

"Mm, Adrien," she breathes, pressing her hips even closer to his and trailing her lips down his jaw, his neck.

His eyes slide shut. It's impossible to resist. (He needs to resist.) She tugs his shirt off, ruffling his hair, and plants open-mouthed kisses on his shoulder and collarbone. He's unravelling like loose threads tugged by skilful fingers. He's in way over his head, and he wants, wants, _wants_.

"My lady," he says breathlessly.

Her fingers slide down his stomach, going lower and lower.

"W-woah." He grabs hold of her arms.

"What?" she asks.

He swallows, trying to catch his breath. "Just … just give me a moment."

She sits back on his lap, biting her kiss-bruised lower lip. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair mussed. He probably looks the same.

"Sorry," she says, lowering her gaze. "I guess I got a little carried away. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Oh, believe me, you didn't make me uncomfortable."

"But you stopped me."

He huffs out a breathy laugh and cups her cheek with his hand. "Yeah, because as much as I would love to let you ravish me right now, it's no fun when I can't do the same to you."

Colour blooms on her cheeks. "Oh."

He lets his fingertips trail caressingly down her cheek, following the curve of her jaw and neck until he hits fabric. "I want to touch you," he whispers. "I want to feel your hands on my skin with no gloves in the way."

Her pupils widen like black moons and her hips once more inch closer to his. "You know we can't."

"You know I'm Chat Noir."

"That's different."

He doesn't argue. (Because there is still a mostly-functioning rational part of him that does understand why it's safer not to know her civilian identity, even if he does have his suspicions.) So he simply kisses her, deep and toe-curling. The moment she tries to wind her arms around him, he pulls back and meets her gaze with a teasing smile.

"Then I guess we'll both have to be patient," he says.

Her lips form a pout. "Patience … is not something I'm known for." Her hands sneak up along his stomach, fingertips tracing lazy patterns against his skin. "At least not when it comes to you."

He swallows, struggling to keep his composure. "I guess this will be a test of your patience then. Or a source of motivation. Neither of us will be getting any until Hawkmoth and Mayura are out of the picture."

"Mhmm." She kisses the hypersensitive skin near his ear. "Or we could just find a loophole now."

"L-loophole?"

She nibbles a little on his earlobe. "How do you feel about a blindfold?"

His heartbeat stutters, and whatever loose threads she'd been unravelling with her previous kisses and touches come apart in an instant. "I think I could be okay with that."

She smiles and kisses him on his lips. This time, he doesn't resist.


	27. Day 25: Together

Pairing: Adrienette/Ladynoir

Day 25: "I could really eat something."

* * *

**Day 25: Together**

She holds him close. So, so close. He's shaking in her arms, face burrowed into her chest, probably smearing tears and snot on her suit, but she doesn't care. She can't when Chat Noir—when _Adrien_—is hurting so much.

When he needs her.

"I-I don't"—he hiccups on a sob, clutches her tighter—"I don't know what to do. I don't … my father, he … he's …"

She closes her eyes and runs her hands through his hair, soothes along his back. "I'm sorry."

She doesn't know what else to say. Hawkmoth is his father. Nathalie is Mayura. Nothing can fix that. Nothing can change it.

"I don't know what to do," he whispers.

It's the vulnerability in his voice—that small, small cry of a lost child begging for an anchor—that makes her pull back and gently clasp his face. His eyes are red and puffy, tears still clinging to his lashes. His nose is running, and he gives a pitiful sniff. Nothing like the Adrien Agreste splashed all over the magazines and billboards.

"Come home with me," she says.

His eyes widen. "What?"

"Come home with me. Stay with me tonight."

"B-but your identity. I couldn't—"

She brushes her thumb against his damp cheek. "I think there's more important things to worry about right now." Her gaze shifts to Plagg, who hovers near them, watching his bearer with a sad expression. "Right?"

Plagg nods.

Her heart thumps faster as she looks into Adrien's eyes. This is not how she expected their reveal to happen, but the thought of leaving him like this would be akin to tearing off her own limb. He's in no condition to fight, and there's no way she's letting him go back to that monster of a father.

"Tikki," she whispers. "Detransform me."

The magic fades in sparkling light. Adrien's eyes widen before he lets out an odd little sob and crashes into her again, holding her close.

"I knew it," he says over and over. "I knew it was you."

She gives him a good, tight squeeze—the kind that whispers of comfort and love and so much more—before she pulls back. "Let's go home, okay?"

He nods and accepts the hand she offers him, interlacing their fingers in an almost greedy way, like he can't bear to miss out on any contact.

When they reach her house, her parents are surprised but accept the situation without demanding too many details. (Just as she hoped they would.) The truth about Hawkmoth, Ladybug and Chat Noir still has to be hidden for now, but the fact that Adrien is severely distressed and needs a place to stay for the night? Yeah, her parents can accept that.

Marinette takes him up to her room so he can rest, but he tugs on her wrist before she can leave.

"Can you … will you stay with me?" he asks.

She wordlessly climbs onto the bed with him and wraps her arms around him. They cuddle like that with their kwamis until he dozes off, too emotionally exhausted to do anything else.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Tikki asks in a worried voice.

Plagg pets Adrien's hair with one tiny black paw. "He's tougher than he looks. Just give him some time to get over the shock."

Marinette hopes Plagg is right. She doesn't want to lose her partner, but she knows she could never ask him to fight his father either. This will have to be his decision.

She closes her eyes and nestles into him. If this is all she can give him for now, she'll gladly give it.

**oOo**

Adrien stirs with a soft little sound in her arms. Marinette smiles and meets his sleepy gaze, her face inches from his.

"Hey," she murmurs.

"Hi," he says shyly.

"You feeling any better?"

He shrugs, which she supposes is an understandable response. She'd be a total mess if she was the one in his situation.

"We'll figure this out, okay?" she says. "I already talked to my parents, and they said you can stay here as long as you like. Oh, and just let me know if there's anything you need or—"

His stomach gives a low growl. Spots of colour blooms on his cheeks. " Um … actually, I could really eat something."

A smile peeps out on the corner of her lips. "That I can arrange." She disentangles herself from him and stands up. "You wanna come with or stay here and I'll bring the food to you?"

He slides off the bed, still puffy-eyed and his hair sticking up everywhere. "I'll come. I, um … don't really want to be alone right now."

Her eyes soften and she interlaces her fingers with his. "Okay."

They were partners, after all. They'd fought countless akumas together. They could do this as well.


	28. Day 26: Warm

Pairing: Marichat

Day 26: "You keep me warm."

* * *

**Day 26: Warm**

Marinette flicks through a fashion magazine. Chat Noir is curled into her side, his legs tangled with hers and his head resting on her lap. The purr rumbling from him is low but happy. (He used to get embarrassed about his cat quirks and desire for cuddles, but he's long since stopped caring. In fact, the overgrown cat-boy doesn't even ask her if it's okay to cuddle with her now—just makes himself comfortable on top of her like she's his new home.)

"Hey." She taps him on the head with the flat end of her pencil. "Sleepy cat."

A leather ear twitches, but he otherwise offers no response.

"Don't ignore me."

One luminescent green eye peeps up at her. "I know what you're going to say."

"Then I shouldn't have to tell you."

He pouts and hugs her closer. "Just a bit longer."

"My leg is going dead."

A sigh escapes him and he slowly disentangles himself from her. "Well, I guess we can't have that."

"So nice to see you have my wellbeing at heart."

His lips twitch at her dry tone, but all he does is crawl towards her pillows and give a light poke to her shoulder. "Budge up."

"Huh?"

He grabs her hips and shuffles her forward.

"H-hey, what are you—"

He wriggles into the space he created and pulls her back against his chest, leaving his arms looped around her waist. "There," he says, sounding far too pleased with himself.

"Chat …"

"What? You said I was making your leg go dead, so I fixed it. I'll just be your pillow instead."

She can't stop the smile that curves her lips, not that he can see it. "Sometimes you're real clingy, you know that?"

He stiffens. It's a subtle thing, but she feels it anyway, close as they are. His arms fall away from her waist.

"Oh," he says, and something about his small, hushed tone makes her wince. "I … I thought you were okay with … I'll, um, I'll just …"

"No, Chat, wait." She grabs onto his wrists and pulls his arms back around her. "I didn't mean it like that."

He's still too stiff. The urge to smack her palm against her forehead is strong. Sometimes she forgets how sensitive he is under all that Chat Noir swagger, how easy it is to make him retreat like a snail curling back into a little shell.

"I was just teasing," she says, giving his forearms a small squeeze. "I really don't mind cuddling with you."

"You're not just saying that?"

"Of course not." She leans her head back against his chest. "Besides, you keep me warm. It's like having my own personal kitty heater."

Some of the tension seeps out of him. His body relaxes against hers and he nuzzles his face into her hair. "You keep me warm as well."

Her heart thumps at the soft confession. Coming from him, the words taken on a different meaning—too sincere, too _deep_ to be referring to a simple joke about personal kitty heaters.

She bumps his head gently with hers, nuzzling him back. "Well, I guess it's a win-win then."

He hums in response, and his purr is soon rumbling through her in soothing vibrations. She smiles and returns to reading the magazine.


	29. Day 27: Jealous?

Pairing: Marichat

Day 27: "Can you wait for me?"

* * *

**Day 27: Jealous?**

"Uh, can you wait for me?" Marinette says into the phone, catching sight of a familiar masked face outside her window. "Something just came up."

"Sure, but—"

"Sorry, gotta go!"

Marinette hangs up and marches over to the window, pushing it open. "Chat," she says, raising her eyebrows. "What are you doing here? Did something happen?"

He perches on the windowsill and flashes his teeth in a grin. "I was in the neighbourhood. Figured I'd stop by and say hi."

She rolls her eyes. "You were hoping for free cookies, weren't you?"

"Of course not. I simply hoped you would grant me the pleasure of your company on this fine evening."

"Well, you're out of luck."

He looks her up and down, taking in her cute blue dress and light makeup. "Ah, I see." He leans forward, wiggling his eyebrows. "Got plans tonight?"

"Actually, I do. A date."

Chat makes an odd, choking sound and almost loses his grip on the windowsill. "A date?"

"Yes, a date. You don't need to sound so surprise."

"I-I'm not. I just … with who?"

Her face warms. "Luka."

"_Luka_?"

"What's wrong with Luka?"

"Nothing, nothing!" He smiles, though it twitches at the edges. "That's … that's great. Luka is great. Real nice guy."

"Yeah, he is."

She's not sure why she's getting so defensive, only that Chat's behaviour is making her feel all ruffled and like she's done something wrong by accepting to go out on a date with Luka. (Which is ridiculous. She and Chat aren't dating. He's just a silly cat-boy who invites himself over when he pleases, eats all her cookies—much to Tikki's displeasure—and sometimes likes to sprawl himself on her in his quest for cuddles.)

"Well," Chat says, forcing his smile to widen. (It still twitches.) "I hope you have fun with Luka tonight."

"I will."

"Great."

"Great."

There's an awkward moment where they just stare at each other. Chat puffs his cheeks out, looking off to the side. Marinette taps her finger against the windowpane.

"Okay, I'm gonna go," he says a bit rapidly. "Got things to do. Lots and lots of things. People to see as well because, you know, I know … people."

"Okay …"

"You have fun with Luka."

"You, uh, already said that."

"So I did." He laughs, too strained. It peters off with all the grace of an unexpected sneeze. He clears his throat and once more looks off to the side. "So I did …"

Her brow creases. "Er, Chat, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Totally fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? It's not like I'm upset you're going out on a date with Luka or anything." He gives that forced laugh again. "I mean that would be really"—his expression turns rigid, like he's just seen the ghost of a long-lost aunt or something—"that would be really … weird."

Her eyebrows creep closer to her hairline.

The twitchy smile clicks back into place. "Plus, I have all those important things to do, so it's actually a good thing you're going out with Luka and can't distract me."

"Right …"

"Right."

Another awkward stare.

"Anyway, I'm just gonna"—he jerks his thumb behind him—"I'm just gonna go now. See you 'round, Marinette. "

"Bye, Chat."

She frowns as he vaults away. That was really, really odd.


	30. Day 28: A Sweet Crime

Pairing: Adrienette

Day 28: "Enough! I heard enough."

* * *

**Day 28: A Sweet Crime**

"They look really good," Adrien says.

Tikki licks her lips. "Did she put extra chocolate chips in?"

"Looks like it."

They both stare at the plate of cookies on the bench. The warm, chunky, chocolate chip cookies that would be so sweet and gooey and just melt in the mouth. Ugggh, he wants one so bad. Too bad Marinette has forbidden him or Tikki from having any. (The cookies are supposed to be a gift for Nadia and Manon.)

Tikki clears her throat. "Maybe …"

His gaze flicks to her.

She shakes her head, turning the other way. "No, no, forget it. We couldn't."

His brow creases. "What?"

"I just … I just wondered if maybe we could share one."

"Tikki," he gasps with exaggerated shock. "Are you suggesting we go against Marinette and steal a cookie?"

The rosy colour of her cheeks deepens. "Well, the cookies are right _there!_ And they're still warm, and she didn't make us our own batch this time, and she put extra chocolate chips in!"

He tries very hard not to laugh. Tikki is normally such a stickler for the rules, but her sweet tooth has always been her downfall. (Plagg, no doubt, would have many things to say about Tikki's desire to become a cookie thief had the cat kwami not been sleeping off a camembert-induced coma in the bedroom.)

"Okay," Adrien whispers, putting his face closer to Tikki's and covering one side of his mouth like a true conspirator. "We take one. I'm sure Marinette won't notice."

Tikki nods grimly, though she stops him with a red paw when he reaches for one of the cookies. "Don't tell Stinky Sock."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He mimes sealing his lips.

Knowing that his girlfriend could come back into the kitchen at any moment, he breaks one of the cookies in half and gives Tikki a piece. They greedily eat their treasure, crumbs spilling in their haste, and sharing small grins. The cookie is just as good as imagined. So much chocolatey gooeyness.

Tikki licks her lips when she's finished, and her big eyes shift back to the plate. "Hey, Adrien …"

"Mm?"

"Don't you think it looks a bit out of balance now?"

He frowns at the plate. "You're right. It's obvious one is missing."

"Maybe …"

Their eyes meet and their lips form identical grins.

"Just one more to balance it?" he suggests.

"Exactly what I was thinking."

**oOo**

"They're all gone," Tikki says in wide-eyed horror as they both stare at the empty plate in his hands. "Adrien, what have we done?"

He swallows. "You can't use your powers to bring them back, can you?"

"You know it doesn't work that way!"

Marinette's voice drifts to them, calling Adrien's name. He and Tikki share a panicked glance. Oh no. The door handle to the kitchen rattles, and then Marinette is standing in the doorway. Her gaze zeroes in on the crumb-littered plate.

"It was her idea," Adrien blurts at the same time Tikki claims he stole the first cookie.

"Hey!" they cry, giving outraged looks at each other.

"You were the one who suggested we share one!" he accuses.

"Well, you kept going back for more!"

His jaw drops. "That was you! You were like a cookie-thieving gremlin! And here I thought Plagg was the only one who vacuums up his food!"

"_What? _If anyone was vacuuming up those cookies, it was you!" Tikki says, poking him in the forehead. "And you—"

"Enough!" Marinette cries.

"But—"

"I think I heard enough to know you're _both_ at fault here," Marinette says, planting her hands on her hips.

Adrien and Tikki hang their heads.

"I can't believe you two! I told you those cookies were for Nadia and Manon."

"Sorry," Adrien says, shoulders slumping.

Tikki lets out a huge burp, then squeaks and clamps her hands over her mouth. Adrien's eyes widen. He shoots her a horrified look, as if to ask if she wants to get them in further trouble. (Everyone knows you don't burp in front of the person you stole food from.) Tikki winces.

A soft, snorty sound draws their attention back to Marinette. She bites her lips. Her cheeks puff out and redden, and then she's suddenly hunching over and laughter is spilling free of her lips.

Adrien blinks. "Uh …"

"Y-you should see your f-faces!" Marinette says, still giggling.

Tikki and Adrien share a confused glance.

"Then … you're not mad?" Tikki asks.

"Oh no, I'm mad. Should have known better than to leave you two sweet tooths alone with the cookies."

"We really are sorry," Adrien offers, rubbing the base of his neck. "We only meant to share one, but they were just so good."

"_So_ good," Tikki agrees dreamily, and then pulls herself together with a snap. "Though of course it was very wrong what we did."

Marinette shakes her head with a smile. "Yeah, yeah. Just help me bake a new batch, and this time don't steal any."

* * *

You have no idea how hard it is to write 'cookie' instead of biscuit for these things. Ugh.


	31. Day 29: My Hero

Pairing: Ladrien

Day 29: "I'm doing this for you."

* * *

**Day 29: My Hero**

Lila plants her hand against the wall, very close to Adrien's face, and effectively boxes him in with her body. His eyes widen and he shoots a side-glance at her hand. A smile curves her lips. They're so close now it's like he's breathing in her nauseating, violet perfume.

_Remember the Agreste image_, he mentally chants. _You can't shove her away no matter how much you want to. Just smile and play dumb._

"I'm doing this for you," Lila says. "You deserve to know the truth about Marinette Dupain Cheng."

"Oh?"

"And also …" She lowers her gaze, fluttering her lashes in what she probably thinks is a come-hither way but just makes it seem like she has something stuck in her eye. "You did agree to help me with my studies, so maybe we could—"

A red and black hand wrenches Lila away, and then Ladybug is pulling him to her side. (Not roughly, but just enough so she is between him and Lila.)

"Sorry I'm late, Adrien," Ladybug says, and then throws him a brilliant smile. "Ready for our date?"

"D-date?" Lila splutters.

Adrien can only blush. He also does not know anything about a date.

Ladybug winks at him.

Oh.

_Oh._

"Right," he says, smiling and turning to Lila. "I can't help you tonight. I have a date with Ladybug."

Lila is not happy with this turn of events but can't very well argue when Adrien refuses to budge on the matter. Eventually, she leaves and Adrien is left blushing and shooting looks at Ladybug from under his lashes.

"Thanks for helping me," he says, rubbing the base of his neck.

"No problem. It looked like you were in need of a rescue."

His blush darkens and he looks the other way. "You could say that. Dealing with Lila is … tricky sometimes."

Ladybug makes a humming sound, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Anyway," he says, "I'm sure you have more important things to do than deal with my problems, so I won't keep you."

"Actually, I've got some free time now."

He blinks.

She offers her hand, a smile on her lips (and faint pink dusting her cheek). "If you want to go on that date, that is."

"A r-real date? With you?"

The pink on cheeks spills into red. "I-I mean only if you want to."

"Yes!" He coughs, conscious of how eager he sounds. "I mean that sounds nice."

She grins a bit nervously and takes his hand. Adrien internally screams. This must be a dream come true.

* * *

**BONUS**

* * *

"I'm doing this for you," Lila says, boxing Adrien in against the wall.

He gulps. "O-oh?"

"That's right, because I—"

"Ladybug kick!"

The war cry comes from somewhere above. Then a red and black blur shoots down and sends Lila flying. Adrien blinks. Somewhere in the background, tiny people sing a song about the witch being dead.

"Th-thanks," Adrien says.

Ladybug strikes a pose and flexes her arms, spotted cape flying in the wind. "Anytime, hot stuff."

Then she vanishes again.

Adrien lets out a dreamy sigh, foot popping as he clasps his hands to his cheek. Ladybug is so cool.

* * *

The little omake is actually my original draft for this prompt. I was so tempted to leave it at this (like so, so tempted), but I decided I would try to put a little effort in, lol.

(2 days to go!)


	32. Day 30: Never Give Up, Never Surrender

Pairing: Marichat

Day 30: "I'm with you, you know that."

* * *

**Day 30: Never Give Up, Never Surrender**

"Chat, I dunno if I can do it," Marinette says, burying her face in her hands in despair. "It's too much."

"I'm with you." He places his hand on her shoulder. "You know that."

She peeps through the gaps in her fingers to see his smile. Warm, reassuring. It gives her confidence, gives her the courage she needs to lower her hands.

"That's my girl," he says.

Together, expressions grim, they face the monstrosity of a parfait that sits in front of them: piles upon piles of ice cream, fruit, cream and sauce.

He bumps her shoulder with his. "Ready to show this parfait who's boss?"

She clinks her spoon against his. "Let's do this."

* * *

**BONUS**

* * *

"Chaaaaaaat," Marinette groans, lying on her back. "Chaaaaaat, you still with me?"

He gives a feeble little sound from where he's sprawled like a starfish not far from her on the floor. Even just getting back to her place had been a mission.

"Chaaaaaaat."

"Can't … talk." Another feeble sound. "Hurts … too … much."

She clutches her stomach and closes her eyes. They conquered the parfait, but at what cost? One wrong move and she knows she's gonna hurl.

"Marinette …"

"Yeah?"

"Let's … let's not … eat … parfait … again."

"Agreed."

* * *

I'd say I'm sorry for this zero-effort response to the prompt, but I'm not.

1 more to go!


	33. Day 31: Boo!

Pairing: Adrienette

Day 31: "Scared, me?"

* * *

**Day 31: Boo!**

Marinette does not like scary things. Not horror movies, not ghost stories. None of that at all, thank you very much. But today is Halloween and Nino and Alya decide it will be great to visit a haunted house attraction after school. Even Adrien is going to be there.

So, with her heart in her throat and bemoaning the stupid things love makes her do, Marinette joins the others and reluctantly pays for her ticket. They move like ants in the line. Her palms slicken with sweat and her heart thumps faster with every step that draws her closer to the creepy doors that separate nightmare from safe space. The only good thing is that she finds herself standing next to Adrien.

"You scared?" he asks.

"Scared? Me?" She lets out a loud, fake laugh—the kind that bursts and fizzes like a disappointing firework. Her shoulders slump. "Yeah, I am. I hate these things."

"I thought I remembered you saying you weren't into scary stuff. Why'd you come?"

"Oh, you know …" _I'm madly in love with you. I would trek through pits of snakes and reanimated zombies if it meant I got to listen to your voice and see your smile._ "I didn't have anything else to do, and Alya wanted me to come."

"You shouldn't have to make yourself uncomfortable for us."

She shakes her head. "It's okay. I wouldn't have come if I really couldn't handle it."

"If you're sure …"

"I am."

A smile curves his lips. "Well, I am glad for the extra company. Just being with Alya and Nino can be a bit …"

They glance at their friends and then back at each other.

"Awkward," they agree with small smiles.

No one, after all, likes to be the third wheel.

"What about you?" Marinette asks. "Do you like haunted houses?"

He rubs the base of his neck. "I've actually never been to one. Guess I'll find out soon."

**oOo**

They get separated from Alya and Nino almost immediately. (Marinette wonders if this is intentional.) Adrien is rather stiff and quiet as they make their way through the first few passages and rooms, but Marinette can't help but be a hunched-shouldered, shrieking mess. The way the lights flicker, the scraping sounds and moans, the sudden movements from things in the shadows—it terrifies her. Still, it's Adrien who grips her hand very tightly when an unexpected ghost pops out at them. He also does not let go. (This is both heavenly and serves to increase her anxiety since her palms are like icky sauna walls of dampness. Or maybe that's his sweat. She can't tell.)

The next time he gets a fright, he wraps both arms around her from behind, hugging her to him like a security blanket. Marinette reaches a new level of heaven. (But also not, because she is just as terrified of the creepy sounds and blood-covered things, and they can only move at a shuffle when plastered together like this unless they want to fall over.)

"Are we near the exit?" he breathes in her ear.

"I don't—"

Something big with fangs jumps out at them. A bloodcurdling scream escapes her. Adrien, however, lifts her right up off the floor and sprints with her.

At least he didn't leave her behind.

They dash through the rest of the rooms (him still carrying her) until they finally make it outside. Marinette's heart thumps and thumps and thumps. (Whether that's from lingering fear or the fact he's still holding her, she doesn't know.)

"Y-you okay?" he asks.

She manages a small sound of confirmation.

He slowly lowers her back to her feet and unwraps himself from her. One more, he rubs the base of his neck in that shy little gesture of his. "Um, so … I don't think I like haunted houses."

She can't help but laugh. He soon joins in with her, and they both slump against each other, exhausted but relieved to have made it out. Safe to say neither of them will be doing a repeat experience next year.

* * *

Yaaaay, it's over!

I'll still be adding to this collection here and there, but don't expect daily updates anymore. (Gets super draining and creatively taxing trying to come up with new one-shots every day. I don't know why I do this to myself, lol.)

Anyway, hope you enjoyed fictober month!


	34. FW 1: Fun Size

Reporting in for ML Lovesquare fluff week 2019. (Though I might not be able to post daily 'cause this week is actually kind of busy, but either way I will finish them. Also gonna try real hard to stick to my self-imposed 500 word max rule.)

Pairing: Marichat

Day 1: I like the way your hand fits in mine

* * *

**FW 1: Fun Size**

Her hand rests next to his on the balcony. It looks so small, and he can't help but lift it up so he can press their palms together, bare skin against black leather. Her fingers don't even come close to his claw-tipped fingertips.

"What are you doing?" she says, raising her eyebrow.

"Your hands are tiny."

"Rude."

He laughs and curls his fingers down before she can pull her hand away, keeping their palms pressed together. "I never said it's a bad thing. It's actually kinda cute. You've got the hand-equivalent of fun size chocolate bars."

Her nose scrunches in that adorable way that reminds him of a disgruntled rabbit. "Can you not?"

"What? It's a compliment."

"Calling my hands fun size is not a compliment."

Another laugh escapes him, and he shifts his grip on her hand so he's holding it loosely, almost cradling it. Such a little thing. Her hand is practically hidden within his, but somehow it feels like a puzzle piece slotting into place. A perfect fit.

He gently raises her hand and brushes his lips against her knuckles. "Well, either way, you have to admit your hand fits very nicely in mine."

Pink dusts her cheeks, though her lips purse. "Are you trying to flirt with me, Chat Noir?"

"I am simply admiring your teeny-tiny hands." He looks her up and down. "In fact, all of you is on the teeny side. Maybe I should call you Itty Bitty instead."

"Don't you dare."

"Maritiny?"

Her eyes narrow.

"Ohh, I know. Shortinette."

"Chat!"

He laughs and dodges the token swipe she takes at his arm. It's too fun to tease her. Still, as they relax back into conversation and admire the stars together, he finds he has to resist the urge to keep touching and playing with her hands. They really do fit so well together.

* * *

I don't know if France has the "fun size" chocolates, but I also don't wanna check because they might not and I want to keep my lame joke, lol.


	35. FW 2: Old Magic

Pairing: Adrienette

Day 2: Forehead kisses

* * *

**FW 2: Old Magic**

"You okay?" Adrien says.

Marinette opens and closes her mouth, her face a vibrant pink. He's so close. One of his hands cradles her face and the other grips her shoulder in a steadying way. Probably a good thing. She still feels a bit woozy after hitting her head.

Panic flares in his eyes. "Oh no."

"What?"

"You're bleeding."

"I am?" She touches the tender spot on her forehead and her fingers come away red.

He scoops her up into his arms so he's holding her bridal-style. A startled squeak escapes her and she almost whacks him in the chin with her elbow.

"Sorry," he says, eyes widening. "I probably should have asked your permission first."

"N-nokay. I mean it's okay!"

He blinks at the loudness of her voice.

Ah, her face is so hot. Eggs could be fried on that mess.

"Y-you just startled me," she says more quietly.

Most people don't tend to go straight for the bridal carry. (It's not like she hurt her legs or feet, and the cut is the barest nothing.) Also, this is _Adrien_. Adrien who is holding her in his arms, and he's so, so close and—

And there is still blood trickling down her face. Right.

"We should get you bandaged and cleaned up," he says, brow creased in worry.

She manages a shy nod. (After all, If he wants to carry her like she's his wife-to-be and fulfil a few fantasies, who is she to deny him?)

**oOo**

"There," Adrien says, gently smoothing the bandage on her forehead. "All done."

She smiles and ducks her head, not quite able to meet his gaze. "Thanks."

"Just one more thing."

He leans down and brushes his lips against the bandage.

Her heart stops.

Her brain stops.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng has stopped working.

A smile warms his eyes. "Now it'll heal faster."

"Th-thanks," she squeaks, her face burning so badly it feels like she might become a whistling kettle any second.

She is never going to recover from this.


	36. FW 3: A Gentlecat

Pairing: Ladynoir

I just wrote a dancing one-shot not that long back, so going with smitten for this.

Day 3: Dancing/Smitten

* * *

**FW 3: A Gentlecat**

It's a dream come true. Ladybug is in love with him. Ladybug wants to marry him.

But Ladybug is not in her right mind.

Adrien (or, as he appears to her, Chat Noir) edges his face back before her lips can meet his. "Ladybug, come on," he says, gripping her shoulder to hold her off. "You need to snap out of this. We have to deal with the akuma."

"I don't care about the akuma." She smiles dreamily. "I only care about you. I love you, Chat Noir."

She puckers up her lips and tries to lean in again.

Oh hell.

This akuma might as well be called Tormentor instead of Lady Love. This is so unfair. How can he enjoy Ladybug's affection when it's the result of an akuma's power? (Though thank goodness she did see him first after getting hit, because it had almost been the mayor.)

"Alright," he says, hoisting her up so he's carrying her in his arms. "Let's get you somewhere safe so we can break this charm."

**oOo**

She keeps trying to pounce on him.

"Why won't you let me kiss you?" she asks with a pout. "Don't you love me, Chat?"

"I do. You know I do, but—"

"Then let me love youuuuuu!"

He yelps as she flings herself at him, sending them both tumbling. His heart stutters and thumps. There's an awkward scramble (and some sloppy cheek kisses) before he manages to get her in a bear hug on his lap. Now she can't wriggle free or get at his face.

"You are not making this easy for me," he grumbles.

"You're the one not making it easy! I don't understand you. If you love me, why can't we be together and express our love?"

He sighs, resting his chin on her head. "I would never do that to you, my lady."

"Do what?"

"Take advantage of this. Take advantage of you. I love you too much."

She goes still in his arms. "Oh."

He closes his eyes and keeps his arms tight around her. She nuzzles into him like a sleepy cat, content to hold off on the kiss attacks for now. He really hopes the charm will wear off soon.

**oOo**

In the end, she doesn't remember anything of the time she spent under the love spell. He informs her about what happened and how he didn't do anything. (Or let her do anything.) It's the least he can do, especially since he knows what it's like to lose control and memories to an akuma.

She presses her hands to her vibrantly pink cheeks. "I'm so embarrassed."

"It wasn't your fault," he says. "Don't worry about it."

Her expression warms and she steps forward, wrapping her arms around him. "Thanks for taking care of me, kitty. I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You know I'll always be there for you, my lady." A small grin. "Even if that means helping you to keep your lips and hands off me."

She snorts and gives him a half-hearted shove. They linger like that, neither quite ready to break away from the hug. Maybe it's not a grand declaration of love on her part, but it feels way more real than any of her behaviour while under the charm.

He grins and pulls back so he can hold out his fist. "Pound it?"

Her smile is soft and the look in her eyes even softer. She bumps her fist to his. "Pound it."


	37. FW 4: Sunrise

Pairing: Adrienette

Back to this because I can't concentrate on my other writing.

Day 4: Watching Sunrise/Sunset

* * *

**FW 4: Sunrise**

Marinette blinks at the light spreading in orange and rosy hues over the sky. She doesn't see sunrises very often (more by accident when she stays up all night, like now), but this time she's not in her room with only a snoozing Tikki for company. Nino and Alya are not far away, giggling as they flirt and try to ride one of the carousel horses. Then there's the reason Marinette is still sitting stiff like a mannequin on the bench: an expensively dressed, very snuggly weight has taken residence against her side.

An Agreste-sized weight.

Her heart thumps and she moistens her lips, sneaking a glance at Adrien. His face is burrowed into the nook between her neck and shoulder so that all she can see is a crown of soft gold. His breath caresses her skin in warm little puffs. It's intimate. Pulse-tinglingly so. One of his arms sneaks around her waist, half hugging her to him, and he nuzzles more into her neck.

Her eyes widen. Her body stiffens even more. Moving is absolutely out of the question. Heck, she'd make breathing prohibited if she could. (Not just because he has dozed off on her, but because she suddenly feels like she's fourteen again and she's not sure she'll be able to get anything coherent out if she has to speak to him. It's kind of frustrating. She thought she was over this.)

A gentle breeze ruffles his hair, tickling her cheek. She bites her lip. He smells so good. Even after all the dancing and drinks in the club, his cologne is warm and musky, teasing her senses with hints of orange and sage. It is heaven and torture all in one. She wants to lean closer, maybe dare to touch his hair, but there's no way she can do that.

They're not together. Not even after these four years.

Nino lets out a yelp, which has Alya quickly dissolve into laughter. Marinette doesn't check what happened. She's too busy staring into a pair of sleepy green eyes.

"You fell asleep," Marinette blurts.

And immediately wants to slap her palm to her forehead. As if it isn't obvious that he fell asleep.

His lips twitch and he eases himself off her, stretching his arms above his head. (She definitely does not look at the way his shirt rides up and exposes a glimpse of his toned abdomen. Nope. Not at all.)

"Sorry for using you as a pillow," he says. "You should have just pushed me off."

"N-no, it's fine." _Ugh, teenage stutter, get thee hence!_ "I mean you seemed really tired. I didn't want to wake you."

He smiles, soft and lazy. It's the kind of unguarded smile that can only be pulled out of someone when they're still in the process of fully waking up. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

Silence settles. She looks back towards the sky, posture stiff and her heart thumping. He seems much more relaxed, reclining in a comfortable, loose-limbed way, though his hand often rises to smother yawns. It's cute. He is unbearably cute when he's sleepy. Even the way his hair now sticks up on one side in floofy little tufts is adorable.

"Pretty," he says.

"Huh?"

"The sunrise."

"O-oh. Right."

Of course he wasn't talking about her. How silly.

They watch the sky get lighter.

"Hey, Marinette?"

"Yeah?"

His eyes meet hers. "You wanna get breakfast later?"

"S-sure. Nino and Alya will probably want to come as w—"

"No. I mean just you and me."

Her heart thumps in one jolting, resounding beat. She stares and stares, not sure she heard him correctly. "You mean like a d-date?"

"Yeah. Like a date."

Warmth blooms on her cheeks. "I … I'd like that."

He gives her that warm, unguarded smile again and reaches for her hand. She tries very hard not to melt into a gooey puddle.

This is officially the best sunrise ever.


	38. Raindrops and Heartbeats

Interrupting my already pending fluff week responses for some tumblr kiss prompt drabbles. This one was written for kisilinramblings, who requested number 8 and Adrienette.

8: Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other's hand.

* * *

**Raindrops and Heartbeats**

Rain falls in fat droplets, sudden and fast. Marinette squeaks. Adrien is just as shocked. Neither of them have an umbrella. Then a smile curves his lips and his hand closes around hers. He tugs her into a run. Her legs are much shorter and it's a stumbling start, startled laughter spilling from her lips.

"A-Adrien, what are you doing?"

"I can see shelter up ahead."

The shelter is a tiny bit of overhang. They have to stand close, huddling to fit within the sliver of dry ground. His damp sleeve presses into her arm. It's such a little thing, yet her heart thuds and thuds. Droplets of rain splatter on her shoulder, her leg.

"Here," he says.

His arm slips around her waist and pulls her fully against him. Her heart pounds faster. The smell of rain clings to them both, earthy and edged with ozone. She moistens her lips as she dares to look up. His hair is plastered to his skin, wet trails sliding down his cheeks and dripping from the ends of each darkened strand of gold. His smile snatches her breath. It's wide and reaches his eyes, a thing of pure sunshine despite the grey clouds that shroud Paris like a veil.

"Better?" he asks.

Pink blooms on her cheeks. "I-I, um …" She swallows, visibly forcing herself to calm down. "Thanks."

He beams and settles his arm more comfortably around her. Just like that, her blush burns hotter and she goes rigid in a mixture of surprise and full-bodied ecstasy.

This is a dream.

This has to be a dream.

"I've never waited out a rainstorm with someone before," he admits.

Her gaze darts to his. "N-never?"

"Nope." He rubs the base of his neck with his free hand. "I know it seems kind of silly, but I always wanted to do this."

She almost laughs, because he's right. It _is_ silly. Who wants to get stuck in such horrible, heavy rain? But then she thinks of how isolated his childhood was and how overprotective his father still is. Adrien has missed out on so many simple experiences.

"What do you think?" she asks. "Is it everything you hoped?"

"Well, it's wet."

She laughs.

His eyes crinkle even more and his arm tightens around her waist. "It's also pretty fun, but I think that might just be because of the girl I get to share it with."

Her heart stumbles like a clumsily played drum.

There are words in that fumbling rhythm, a whisper that this is the time to tell him how she feels. It's just the two of them. They're close—so much so that a rain drop falls from his fringe and lands on her nose. His eyes are warm, summer grass, and his smile is like a caress.

It has to mean something, right?

Her heart thrums, fluttering faster and faster like a nervous bird. "Adrien …"

Something buzzes in his pocket.

"Sorry," he mumbles. "I should probably check that."

She bites her lip, not sure if she's relieved or disappointed. "Of course."

He pulls out his phone and his brow furrows as he scans the words on the screen. "Oh," he says in a heavy tone.

"What?"

"Last minute photoshoot. My driver is waiting at the front gates to pick me up."

It's like a bubble has been popped. The world comes back into focus, along with all the restraining bands of her inhibitions.

She steps back and glances off to the side. The rain slows to a scattering of light drops. "Looks like the weather is on your side. You should go now before it gets heavy again."

He takes her hand in his, making her gaze whip back to him.

"I'll see you later, Marinette," he murmurs, and presses a light kiss to the back of her hand.

Fresh waves of heat bloom on her cheeks. Her heart skips and stutters. "B-bye."

He gives her one last smile and heads for the school gates. She presses her hand to her pounding heart and closes her eyes, sinking back against the wall. It's a long time before the giddy rhythm returns to normal.

* * *

This was meant to be 200-300 words, but I got carried away, haha. Hope you enjoyed!


	39. Surrender

Another tumblr kiss prompt. This one was written for alexseanchai, who requested number 24 and Ladynoir.

24: Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other's hair to pull them closer.

* * *

**Surrender**

Her breath shudders as Chat Noir's lips find hers again, drawing her deeper into the kiss. Into him. There's fire in her blood, a song in her heart. It's dizzying and intoxicating. For so long she's been denying this attraction. This unspoken _thing_. So she surrenders to the heat, to the thundering rhythm that shakes her bones and the very core of her being. She drags her fingers through his hair, tugging him closer, closer, closer. Her body trembles when he does the same.

"My lady," he breathes.

They kiss again and again, bodies pressed impossibly close. The texture of his glove grazes her exposed skin, and for the first time she wishes the suits didn't cover so much. This isn't enough. It's never going to be enough. She's tasted him now, knows what it feels like to drown in all the pulse-jumping blaze of his proximity, and she wants more.

Wants to collide and connect with him in the most intrinsic, unfettered of ways.

That scares her.

She pulls back and meets his eyes, black pools of heat in a sea of green. His lips are swollen, his hair mussed. No doubt she looks much the same.

"I should go," she whispers.

He nods, swallowing hard. "I know."

Neither moves.

As if in trance, she runs her thumb along the edges of his mask, his cheek, then over to trace his kiss-bruised lower lip. His breathing hitches.

"Ladybug," he says, soft and husky.

It sounds like a plea. To stop? To continue?

There's vulnerability in his eyes, but so much yearning as well.

She kisses him before she can change her mind. Like the surging of a wave smashing into shore, his fingers slip back into her hair and he groans into her mouth. They fall back against the rooftop, limbs tangling. No more resistance. She doesn't have the strength.

There's fire in her blood, a song in her heart, and it tells her she loves him.


	40. Kitty Distractions

This one was written for mochegato, who requested number 12 and Marichat.

12: Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.

* * *

**Kitty Distractions**

She laughs in breathy anticipation as Chat Noir pulls her into the shadowed alcove with him. Voices hum from all around, though thankfully no footsteps approach. (Then again, she can't deny there's something thrilling about hiding here with him, knowing that any moment they could be exposed.)

"What are you doing, you silly cat?" she asks.

His hands go for her hips. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Trying to kidnap me from my studies. Do you want me to fail my exam?"

He dips his head and places a feather-light kiss by her ear. "I can always help you study later."

She swallows. His breath is a shiver-inducing whisper on her skin and the way his lips just barely graze her most hypersensitive spots is as distracting as it is tantalising. "I don't know if I trust you," she says, breath hitching as he places an open-mouthed kiss on her stuttering pulse. "You'd just be a distracting nuisance."

"Oh?" Mischief dances in his eyes as he pulls back to meet her gaze. "Am I being a distracting nuisance now?"

Ugh, she wants to hit that smug smile right off his face. Of course he knows what he's doing to her—how he makes her knees wobble and her body hum in needy pleasure for his touch. How her lips yearn to taste and taste until she's satiated.

She yanks him down by his bell and kisses him hard. He grins against her lips, guiding her backwards by her hips until her back hits the wall.

Needless to say, she doesn't get much work done during that study period.


	41. Kiss Me in Snow

This one was written for anon, who requested number 2 and Adrienette.

2: A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

* * *

**Kiss Me in Snow**

Snow falls like petals, catching on Marinette's hair to form a crown of speckled white. She walks beside him, chatting animatedly about the birthday party she's planning for Alya, her hands darting about as if she's some conjurer casting a spell. So full of life. So …

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

Marinette stills, tilting her head. "Huh?"

Heat crawls up his face. "Oh. I, um …"

No words come to help him salvage the moment. Or maybe it's that he doesn't want to take it back. There's a dizzying drumbeat in his chest, and all he can do is stare at this girl with her bluebell eyes and snow-petal crown. This girl who is so kind, lovely and funny.

This girl who calls to him like a song on the wind, achingly familiar and dear.

He steps closer. "You," he says softly. "You're beautiful, Marinette."

Her mouth forms a small O, and the rosy bloom on her cheeks darkens and spreads.

The drumbeat of his heart gets louder. It thrums in his ears, in his bones. Almost helplessly, he closes the distance between them until the tips of their shoes are nearly touching. Her chest rises and falls too fast. Her eyes are wide. But she doesn't pull back, doesn't recoil when he dips his head, letting their misty breath intermingle.

They linger like that.

"May I?" he whispers.

She closes her eyes for answer and leans up on her tiptoes. Their lips brush in a gossamer caress, so light and fleeting, but even then it's like finding home. Like he's just found a piece he didn't even know he's been missing. His gaze meets hers for a heartbeat, and then his lips are on hers again and her arms are winding around his neck. They kiss and kiss, hungrily, deeply, sharing breath and trying to memorise the shape of each other's mouth.

They kiss until his lips are bruised and he's panting for breath.

"Wow," she says, eyelashes fluttering open. She looks half-dazed and her fingers curl into the front of his jacket as if seeking an anchor to steady her balance. "Th-that was …"

"Yeah," he agrees. "That was something."

Pink dusts her cheeks. They share a shy smile and he enfolds her back in his arms, content to linger in this moment.


	42. Chocolate Kisses

This one was written for yueasuka, who requested number 37 and Marichat.

37: Cleaning the other person's lips with a lick and a kiss.

* * *

**Chocolate Kisses**

He's sprawled on the chaise on his back, eating strawberries dipped in chocolate sauce with far too much relish. She knows Chat likes food and sometimes forgets his surroundings, especially when enjoying sweet things, but come on. He does not need to lick at the sauce like it's some delicate thing that must be savoured, let alone make those noises. It's … it'_s indecent_.

"This is so good," he says happily, and proceeds to suck and lap at a new strawberry.

Something simmers in the pit of her belly. It's needy and hot and is absolutely sick of watching Chat Noir put his mouth all over those damn fruit.

She stands up and marches over. His eyes are still shut in bliss when she snatches the plate of strawberries off him.

"Hey," he complains. "I was still eating those."

Heart hammering like thunder, she grabs him by his bell and yanks him up. His eyes widen. Traces of sauce are smeared on his lips. Taunting.

"Marinette?"

As if in trance, she runs her tongue over his lower lip, licking the sauce right off. Chocolate explodes on her tongue, rich and sweet. A shudder passes through him and his pupils dilate.

"Um," he says intelligently.

She licks her lips. They stare at each other before she dives in again, this time capturing his lips in a kiss. The half-eaten strawberry drops from his hand and he winds his fingers into her hair, mouth slanting over hers and drawing her in deeper, deeper, deeper.

It's a kiss of chocolate and heat and pulse-stuttering sparks.

It's also completely addictive.

He pulls back, his cheeks flushed like rosy apples. "Not that I'm complaining, but can I ask why you're—"

"Shut up and kiss me."

Needless to say, he is happy to oblige.


	43. A Hero's Reward

This one was written for jawesomesauce and callmegremlin, who requested number 33 and Ladrien.

33: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

* * *

**A Hero's Reward**

She hopes he can't feel the thudding of her heart, the skittering of her pulse. It's not every day she gets to be this close to Adrien. His chest is pressed to hers and he's wrapped his legs around her waist so his feet don't trip them up when she has to land. (Downside of being short. Sure, she has the strength to carry him with no trouble, but the suit can't give her extra inches, and he's got a lot taller over the past year.)

"Just a bit farther," she says.

He shifts against her, strands of gold hair tickling her cheek. "Sorry about this."

"It's no problem. Saving people from akumas is my job."

Plus, he smells heavenly. She wants to drink in his cologne forever and would totally sniff him like a creeper if she could get away with it. (Though there is a faint mustiness clinging to him, almost like … cheese? Huh, maybe he had some for lunch.)

She swings onto the hotel rooftop. "Here should be good."

He uncurls himself from her, rubbing the back of his neck as he straightens to his full height. Pink dusts his cheeks. With his wind-ruffled hair and the way he shoots her a shy yet earnest glance from under his lashes, he looks adorable. Then he leans down swiftly and brushes his lips against her cheek.

Her heart stutters to a halt.

"Thanks for saving me," he murmurs.

She blinks. Then she blinks again. Then heat explodes on her face and her legs turn to wobbly goo, threatening to give out on her. "You're wonderful." Her eyes bulge in panic. "I-I mean lelcome. Ah, _welcome_! You're welcome!"

His head tilts slightly, brow creasing.

Oh, no, he's giving her the look he always gives when she tangles her words up around him as her civilian self. Abort, abort!

"I have to go akuma the stop now," she blurts in a rush. "Stay safe. Bye!"

Then she swings off, her face burning as red as her suit.


	44. A Good Boyfriend

This one was written for babycreamfil, who requested number 16 and Adrienette.

16: One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

* * *

**A Good Boyfriend**

"Oh," Marinette says, shoulders slumping.

Adrien glances up from the television, frowning as he watches her talk on the phone. Aside from the way she's speaking, which is about as lively as a hollowed out stone, her whole posture droops like a wilting flower. Did something go wrong?

"Yeah, sure," she says. "Thanks anyway."

She ends the call. Her shoulders slump more.

"What happened?" he asks. "Are Nino and Alya still coming over?"

"Yeah, they'll be here soon, but the chocolate I wanted was out of stock. Alya had to get me something else."

His lips twitch. "Wait, that's what you're so upset about?"

"It's not funny."

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry."

This does not appease her. She folds her arms and pouts, looking like a grumpy kitten dressed in pink. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling again. Much as she looks cute, she won't appreciate the sentiment right now. (Plus, he already feels like a jerk for making her feel like he wasn't taking her disappointment seriously. That is not good boyfriend behaviour.)

"Hey," he says gently.

More pouting. It's too adorable. Maybe that's why he leans in and kisses her, soft and sweet. The tension in her shoulders eases and her lips relax against his. They kiss again, indulging in lazy pecks and caresses until they both pull back to nuzzle foreheads, meeting each other's eyes.

"I really am sorry," he murmurs. "I shouldn't have teased you."

A sigh slips out of her, and she rests her head on his shoulder. "I guess it is kind of silly. I just … I really wanted _that_ chocolate. I've been craving it all day."

"I know." He wraps his arms around her, giving her a small squeeze. "Want me to scour the city to find you some?"

A giggle. "That won't be necessary, but thank you."

"You sure? The offer is there. Just say the word."

She shifts to face him, a soft smile curling her lips. "How about a hug instead?"

"That's an easy request."

He wraps his arms around her. She hums in pleasure and snuggles more into his chest. They stay like that for a long time.


	45. Kiss Me

This one was written for anon, who requested number 3 and Adrienette.

3: A breathy demand: "Kiss me" - and what the other person does to respond.

* * *

**Kiss Me**

It's the gum that does it. A stupid prank he tries to fix. A stupid misunderstanding he's too slow to correct. All his apologies go unaccepted, all his attempts to befriend Marinette are rebuffed. She thinks him a two-faced brat. She thinks he's just like Chloe. Yet for all that she turns her nose up at him, he's inexplicably drawn to her. Has been from day one when their eyes met and he felt … _something_.

A sense of calm amid the storm of the new and unknown.

A sense of familiarity.

It's just too bad she doesn't feel the same.

Sometimes, he catches her shooting him glances under her eyelashes, contemplative rather than narrowed. Sometimes her breath catches when they brush arms by accident. She's aware of him, visibly so, and there is something strangely flattering about that. But he doesn't know what it means. Not when any attempt to talk to her is met with pursed lips and words that might as well be ice walls.

So when he saves her from an akuma, cradling her head to lessen the impact as they fall, he's surprised when she doesn't shove him off or pull some kind of disgusted face. This is the closest they've ever been. Close enough for him to count the tiny freckles on her cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

Her face blooms with pink. "I'm fine."

There's a crash from up ahead. The akuma. Right, he really needs to go transform.

He gets off her and holds out his hand to help her stand. Her gaze darts to his hand, hesitating.

"I don't bite, you know," he says.

Her blush darkens. "I know."

When she grasps his hand, it's like lightning to his blood. The shock of familiarity, the shock of _rightness_. It whispers through his heart, intertwining itself to the beat. It buries itself deep in his soul.

She wrenches her hand away, eyes wide and her face crimson-red. "I-I have to go."

His heart thrums and thrums as he watches her dash off.

What the heck was that?

**oOo**

Things change after that. More sidelong glances. More fumbling moments of accidental touches and pink-dusted cheeks. There's less bite to their encounters, but not less intensity. The lightning is still in his blood, endlessly whispering. (Secretly, he wonders if it's in hers now too.)

When they next end up entwined with each other, she's the one who saves him. Her thighs straddle his hips. Her hand cradles the back of his head much in the way he had done for her, while her other hand is on his waist, fingers digging into his shirt. Their faces are close. Too close. Her breath is a shivering caress on his lips. It's intimate and pulse-stirring and makes it hard to remember things like the akuma he should be stopping.

It doesn't help she makes no effort to get off him.

He swallows, heart beating faster. There's heat in her bluebell eyes, but it's not the fire of anger. It's warm and simmering and teases flutters in his belly. Makes his blood hum in his ears. Her fingers release their grip on his shirt so she can touch his cheek, gentle and almost as if in trance. His pulse spikes.

"Is it true?" she whispers. "Is it true you were just trying to remove the gum that day?"

He nods.

"And all that stuff Chloe said? You really don't agree with her?"

"Of course not. I would never—I've only ever wanted to be your friend."

_And more._

That truth is clearer to him now when their bodies are pressed intimately against each other and her scent wraps itself around him like silk, soft but tantalising. Everything about her tugs and tugs at him like she's got him hooked on a string. Fortunately, she seems to understand what he wants.

She dips her head, lips almost touching his. "Kiss me," she breathes.

He does. It's gentle but lingering, the kind of kiss that promises more if she's willing. (He soon learns that she definitely is.)

A scream tears them apart.

"Akuma," she says, eyes wide as if she's just remembered how they ended up on the ground.

He shoots to his feet, helping her up as he does. "Will you be okay here?" he asks. "Sorry, I just remembered I have to, uh, grab something from my locker."

"Yeah, sure. We can, um, talk later."

"Great."

Awkward, red-faced, they go their separate ways.

* * *

Not gonna lie, I had so much trouble with this one.


	46. Accident

This one was written for anon, who requested number 4 and Adrienette.

4: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

* * *

**Accident**

"Thanks for helping me," Marinette says. "You're a lifesaver."

He turns to smile and say it's no problem, that it's his pleasure to help a friend. Instead, soft lips brush against his.

Oh.

Her eyes widen. Pinks blooms and spreads over her face. It's obvious she'd been aiming to kiss his cheek, but it's too late to take it back now. He knows her lips are velvet soft and taste like cinnamon. The taste lingers, teasing and sweet.

So temptingly sweet.

She moistens her lips, still poised on her tiptoes. A hammering beat takes over his pulse and he leans in. Their eyes meet. Then his eyelashes flutter shut and he's kissing her. Cinnamon tingles on his lips. The kiss is soft and lingering, a shy thing that whispers of all that simmers within. When he pulls back, her cheeks are pinker than ever. His own face feels warm.

"We … we really just did that, right?" she asks, sounding dazed. "I didn't imagine it?"

He laughs and pulls her into his arms, nuzzling his head to hers. "You didn't imagine it, Marinette."

And if she feels the same way about him as he does for her, they'll be kissing a lot more from now on.


	47. Little Impulse

This one was written for anon, who requested number 8 from the kiss prompts and Marichat. (Not gonna lie, this one was meant to be a response for a different one, but I realised I wasn't even fulfilling that prompt lmao. Didn't want to scrap it, so this is the result. Hope you like it, anon!)

8: Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other's hand.

* * *

**Little Impulse**

She's warm in his arms, all bluebell eyes and rose-pink lips. His blood stirs. He should probably let her go now that she's in no danger of tripping again, but it's like being tugged by invisible strings. The way she moistens her lips, the whispers of spring flowers and apple that tease his senses. It calls to him.

_She_ calls to him.

Adorable, lovely, but most definitely not-his-lady Marinette.

He swallows. "I—"

She surges up on her tiptoes and presses her lips to his. It's a clumsy collision, but her lips are soft. So, so soft. His heart jolts in a skittering beat, and all he can do is stand there like an idiot until she pulls away, biting her lip. Colour stains her cheeks like sunset.

"Um," he says intelligently.

Her shoulders hunch. "S-sorry. I shouldn't have—please just forget that!"

She tries to run, sheets of unbound hair fanning out with the motion like dark silk, but he catches her hand and tugs her back towards him.

"Wait," he says.

Her breath hitches, eyes wide.

He gently places a kiss on the back of her hand. "Stay."

The colour on her cheeks spills into plum. "B-but—"

"Princess." He pulls her closer, placing another kiss on her hand, and another. "Please stay."

So she does.


	48. Height Difference

This one was written for anon, who requested number 48 and Ladynoir.

48: One person has to bend down in order to kiss their partner, who is standing on their tip-toes to reach their partner's.

* * *

**Height Difference**

Ladybug bites her lip, flushes in the most adorable way. For all that she's risen on her tiptoes, she has no hope of getting her mouth on his unless she jumps.

He grins.

"Don't you dare," she says.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

He bends down, eyes gleaming with humour. "Shall I assist you then?"

A flat look. "You're never going to let me live this down, are you?"

"Nope." He kisses her, taking satisfaction in the way her eyes flutter shut and how she chases his lips with dreamy breathlessness the moment he pulls back. "But that's okay. I like you just the way you are, my little lady."

Her eyes snap open and her nose scrunches. "Little lady?"

"Too much?" he asks.

"Way too much. Please don't ever call me that again."

A soft laugh escapes him and he cups her face. "Done."

They kiss again and again, smiling against each other's lips. He could get used to this.


	49. Relief

This one was written for marisbugs, who requested number 47 and Marichat.

47: A kiss paired with a tight hug, knocking the breath out of the person being hugged.

* * *

**Relief**

Chat Noir scrambles over and gathers her into his arms, hugging her in a bruising, breath-snatching collision of warmth and leather. All she can do is blink. He kisses the top of her head and squeezes her tighter, like he's afraid any second she'll vanish from his hold into nonexistence.

"Chat," she manages to gasp out. "Can't breathe."

"You are insane," he breathes into her hair.

Ah, yeah. She probably did give him a fright when she launched herself at the akuma to save him. (There had been no time to transform into Ladybug.) Still, the distraction worked. The akumatised victim is now paralysed thanks to their own power being turned against them, and all Marinette has to do is slip away and transform so she can purify the butterfly.

That is if this clingy cat-boy will let her go.

"Hey, it's okay," she says. "I'm fine, you're fine. It all worked out."

"You got hit."

"It's just a bruise, and it'll heal up the instant Ladybug uses her power."

He holds her closer, nuzzling into her hair. It's sweet how affectionate he's being. (Just like the kitty she calls him.) But she has a job to do.

"Seriously, Chat. I'm fine."

His voice is the barest whisper. "I was worried. I was really, really worried. You're just … I mean I have this suit to protect me, but you …" His arms manage to tighten around her even more, letting her feel the rapid drum of his heart. "I know you're brave, princess, but you almost gave me a heart attack."

Her lips curve slightly and she slides her hands up his back, returning the embrace. Maybe she can stay like this with him for a bit longer.


	50. Home

This one was written for anon, who requested number 14 and Ladynoir.

14: A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.

* * *

**Home**

The moon is veiled, turning everything to shadow. No stars, no light. Even his cat-green eyes have been swallowed in black. But his hand finds hers, warm through the suit. Always a guiding touch in the dark.

"My lady."

It sounds like a plea. Aching, yearning. It whispers to her blood.

Her heart thuds and thuds. The heat of his body is an invisible caress, so close it sends shivers along her skin. So close she can almost taste his scent—musk and soap and something uniquely him. His breath touches her lips. Delicate. Teasing. She sways like a dandelion on the wind, ever getting closer.

Anticipating what she has denied for so long.

"May I?" he breathes.

"Yes."

Their lips collide. It's fire and silk and a silent cry of _more, more, more_. She wraps her arms around him, moulding herself to his frame like moss trying to make a home. He welcomes her in. Welcomes her so deep that maybe he's the one trying to make a home out of her. She doesn't know or care. What matters is the feel of his body pressed to hers, the thudding drum of his heart. The taste of him.

She drags her fingers through his hair, down the leather of his suit. Lips bruise. Tongues speak in silent language. He steals her breath and gives it back to her with every kiss, every shared sigh of _finally_ and _please don't stop_.

Makes her blood spark in stars and thunder.

They part, foreheads touching, panting for breath. His hold loosens and she lets her hands rest on his chest. Even now, he's a warm, steadying presence when all she sees is shadow.

"I love you," he whispers.

Her heart stumbles, shy and clumsy. She has never been able to return those words. Not to him. But now she can't hide from her heart. Doesn't even want to.

"I love you too."


	51. Umbrella

This one was written for anon, who requested number 41 and Adrienette.

41: Kisses shared under an umbrella.

* * *

**Umbrella**

Rain falls in a whispery song, still gentle.

"Marinette!"

She pauses at the top of the steps, looking back over her shoulder. Adrien approaches with a familiar umbrella. His smile is as lovely as it was the first time he'd caught her off guard—the day lightning had struck and entwined her heart with his.

"A-Adrien."

He takes her hand and gently pulls her closer so she is standing under the umbrella with him. Heat spills over her cheeks. They're so close that she has to crane her neck back to meet his gaze. A raindrop drips from her fringe and gets caught in her eyelashes. She blinks, wiping at the offending drop. He has yet to let go of her hand.

"Is it true?" he asks.

"Is what?"

"Do you … do you really like me?"

Her heart freezes and flails like some graceless thing, and her eyes widen. How does he know? Why is her asking her this? She's not prepared. Not prepared for all her bubble of romantic fantasies to be popped or for him to—

But wait. He's still holding her hand. He's still smiling.

Is this good?

She blinks, trying to process what she's seeing beyond the scream of panic blaring in her mind. He gives her hand a light squeeze.

"Marinette," he says again, softer this time. So soft his voice is like a caress. "Is it true?"

"I …" Her face gets hotter. She bites her lip, looks to the side, looks back at him. A small nod.

He grins. It's bright and warm and stirs flutters in her stomach. "I'm really, really glad," he murmurs.

"W-why?"

"Because …" He dips his head even as he continues to hold the umbrella over them, sheltering them both from the rain. Her breath hitches at the unexpected proximity. "Because I really like you too."

Her heart stumbles and then speeds up, faster and faster. Their lips are so close. He holds her gaze for a second—a silent request for permission—and a swell of dizzy giddiness fills her as she realises this is happening. Adrien likes her, he really likes her, and now he's asking her if he can kiss her.

She leans up on her tiptoes and let's their lips brush once, twice and then in a third, lingering kiss. Their eyes meet. Rosy colour dusts both their cheeks.

"Can I walk you home?" he asks.

She smiles shyly. "I'd like that."


	52. The Prince and his Lady

This one was written for taliaxlatia, who requested number 21 and Ladrien. I was feeling big AU feels, but I figured you wouldn't mind if I mixed things up a little.

21: A chaste kiss given to each other because they are in mixed company.

* * *

**The Prince and his Lady**

Adrien's heart stutters the moment he catches sight of that distinct shade of red amid the throng of people. The full ripeness of a strawberry in summer, the bloom of heat on freckled cheeks. The colour of power and passion and all that hums within his veins.

"Ladybug," he breathes.

Her eyes, framed by a red mask, lock on his. It's a tug on his bones, his very soul. He closes the distance between them with restrained swiftness. A polite nod to a toadying noble, a tap on a lady's shoulder to get her to move aside—all done with a smile that barely hides the need to be with Ladybug _now_.

"You came," he says when he stops in front of her.

She smiles, shy but warm. "Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I …"

The words he wants to say tremble on the tip of his tongue. That he loves her, that he'd bind himself to her right now and make her the future queen of France if she'd let him. But Hawkmoth is relentless. Ladybug always places her duty first. The best thing Adrien can do is to support her as a prince and respect her wish to not reveal that he's also her partner, Chat Noir.

"I hoped you'd come," he settles for, and leans in to place a kiss on her cheek—chaste enough not to arouse attention, but his eyes are heated green and filled with yearning.

Dustings of rose spill over her cheeks.

If only they could be alone _just once_.

"May I have this dance?" he asks.

She accepts his offered hand, her red-gloved fingers intertwining with his bare. "Of course."

He leads her to the dancefloor. They flow into the steps, mirroring each other and circling to the graceful, stringed melody. He treasures every moment.


	53. love is not silent

This one was written for anonymous, who requested number 38 and Ladynoir.

38: Whispering "I love you" before a chaste, delicate kiss.

* * *

**love is not silent**

Stars twinkled like his mother's pearls, delicate and lovely against a sea of black. So many memories of running his fingers over the necklace. Warm from her skin. A hint of peony lingering from a well-loved perfume. Laughter ringing in his ears and teased from his lips.

It was so cold without her in his home. So silent.

_Thunk_.

He glanced over his shoulder. Ladybug approached on the rooftop, clipping her yoyo to her hip.

"You call this patrolling the city?" she asked teasingly.

He plastered on a smile and leapt to his feet. "Just taking a small break to admire the stars. They're particularly beautiful tonight." He raised one of her hands to his lips. "But not as beautiful as you."

Pink dusted her cheeks. "Are you ever going to stop with the cheesy lines?"

"Never." He looped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "But I could throw in a pun or two."

"Not the puns."

"But you're so mewtiful, my lady."

"Nooo."

"My mewtiful, mewtiful lady, won't you—"

"Stop," she said with a laugh, pressing her hand to his mouth.

His eyes crinkled into a much more genuine smile.

"You are ridiculous," she informed him.

"Yet you still agreed to be my girlfriend."

"Clearly, I wasn't thinking straight."

His lips twitched. "That so?"

"Mhmm."

He wrapped his other arm around her, dipping his head so their noses almost bumped. Her blush darkened and she moistened her lower lip. Soft, inviting. It would be easy to lean in and kiss her, but he was content to stay in this the moment. Just the two of them on this random rooftop, stars overhead. Her laughter an easy sound. His smiles quick to appear. The scent of sweet fruit and blossoms wrapping him up like a blanket of familiarity and warmth.

"I love you," he whispered.

It was not the first time he'd said the words, but she still smiled in that shy, delighted way before she nudged her nose to his, letting their breath intermingle.

"I love you too."

They kissed—a chaste brush of lips. Then he simply rested his forehead on hers and held her close.

He did not know her real name. He did not know when or if it would be safe to reveal their identities to each other, but he did know she was his partner, his friend, his home. And there was no coldness and silence here.


	54. Tallernette

This one was written for anonymous, who requested number 20 and Adrienette.

20: Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

* * *

**Tallernette**

Age has not blessed Marinette with extra centimetres of the vertical kind. Her boyfriend is another matter. Adrien Agreste, at age twenty-three, is now a giant compared to her. Long limbs, lean but muscled frame, a heart-ruffling smirk that taunts _allow me, smol one_ every time he has to bend down so they can kiss. (Sometimes he even has the nerve to call her Shortinette.)

So when she pauses on the stairwell to speak to him, she is delighted to find herself looking down at him.

"What are you smiling about?" he asks.

"You're shorter than me."

A laugh is startled out of him. "Technically the step you're on is making you taller."

"Technically you're an unfairly attractive giant and you should let me have my moment."

"Unfairly attractive?"

She can't quite supress her smile, not when he's wiggling his eyebrows at her like the huge dork he is. "Don't fish. You know you're hot, Mr I Have My Face on Every Paris Billboard."

"Not _every_ Paris billboard. There was a great insurance one with a pun just on—"

"Adrien."

"Yes?"

He looks at her all innocence and too-knowing grin. That dork. Slowly, she leans down and brushes the back of her hand against his cheek before taking his chin between her finger and thumb. A light dusting of pink glows on his face. Her lips curve. Ha. Now he knows how it feels.

"Let me enjoy my moment," she murmurs.

His eyelashes flutter shut. She kisses him full on the mouth, capturing his bottom lip in a silky caress. Hints of passionfruit and vanilla tingle on her taste buds—an echo of the dessert they'd shared. So sweet. So addictive.

She pulls back, and he follows like one enchanted, his eyes still shut and lips ready to kiss.

"Goodnight," she says.

It's flattering the way he takes a moment to open his eyes. Even more so is the resigned but adoring smile that settles on his lips.

"Goodnight ... Tallernette."

Ugh.


	55. Care to Jog My Memory?

Happy birthday, Yunyin! I know ladynoir is your favourite side of the lovesquare, so I thought I'd write a little something for you as a thank you for all the wonderful art you bless us with.

* * *

**Care to Jog My Memory?**

His lips had touched Ladybug's. Her lips had touched his. It was magic, wonderful, everything he could have dreamed of!

Except Adrien couldn't remember it. His first kiss was one big, tauntingly amazing blank in his head.

Sure, he'd seen the video during Nadja's interview, but that didn't mean he really understood how it had happened or what it had been like. Ladybug had insisted it meant nothing—just something she'd had to do to break Dark Cupid's control on him, but still. She had kissed him. Their lips had touched. And he'd found that video and watched it more than once. (Okay, more than a hundred times, but who was counting?) The point was that he had studied it enough to know the kiss had lasted longer than a second.

He wished so desperately he could remember it.

"I don't see why you're so worked up over a kiss," Plagg said, unpeeling the wrapper from his camembert. "Cheese is much better."

Adrien sighed and let his back slide down the wall, leaving him a lovesick puddle on the floor. "You don't understand."

"I don't want to either."

An alarm went off on his phone.

Adrien shot up, half slipping as he scrambled for the device. "Akuma alert!"

"Can't I just finish my—"

"Plagg, transform me!"

**oOo**

Ladybug smiled as he dropped down next to her in the park. "Good timing."

His gaze honed in on her lips. So soft. So lovely.

"Chat?"

He blinked and plastered on his most charming grin. "A hero always gets here at the perfect time. Now, what would my lady have her faithful knight do?"

She giggled and got her yoyo ready. "Just follow my lead, kitty."

As if he could refuse. He'd follow her anywhere.

**oOo**

"Good job!" she said, holding her fist out to him.

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Good job, my lady. You were amazing, as always."

Colour spilled out from under her mask, but only for a second. She slipped her hand free and pushed him back with a fingertip to his nose. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that flattery gets you nowhere?"

"I'm wounded." He placed his hand dramatically over his heart. "Here I am trying to give you a compliment and you doubt my sincerity."

"Maybe you should skip the hand kisses then."

"Impawssible. How am I to express my undying affection to you if I don't worship your hand with my kisses or—"

"Kitty," she said warningly.

His teeth flashed in a grin. "Bugaboo."

She pursed her lips and held his gaze for one second, two seconds, but by the third her mouth was quivering and sparks of laughter glinted in her eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"Love makes us all fools."

It was meant to be a joke. It just came out a bit too lovesick. The faint widening of her eyes and the way she avoided his gaze suggested she'd noticed, too.

Heat crawled up his cheeks. Well, this was awkward.

He cleared his throat and spun his baton, propping it in front of him so he could lean on it in the way he'd practiced maybe a few too many times in the mirror. (Just to make sure it looked as suave as he hoped.) When all else failed, there was only one thing to do when suited up as Chat Noir: flirt, be cool, and scream on the inside like the flustered, lovesick kitten he was.

"So," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, "speaking of kisses—"

"No."

He blinked. "I haven't even said anything yet."

"I know what you're going to say and the answer is no. I'm not going to give you a goodbye kiss, a jog-your-memory kiss, a—"

He abandoned his suave pose. "But you're the only one who remembers it."

"It was barely a kiss!"

"It was on the lips, and it lasted at least three seconds."

Her nose scrunched. "How do you even know that?" She shook her head. "You know what, I don't want to know."

"It's not what you think." Okay, maybe it was—he'd definitely replayed and paused that video over and over and over, but still. "I just … I mean …"

She raised her eyebrow, waiting.

He bit his lip and stepped closer, hands clasped near his heart. "Bugaboo, my lady and most amazing partner, couldn't you take pity on this poor kitty just once?" He gave his best kitten eyes, making himself the picture of entreaty and innocence. "Just this one time?"

"Why do you even care so much?"

His cheeks burned hotter and he looked off to the side, mumbling.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I said it was my first kiss." His shoulders hunched and the tips of his human ears grew warm. "I just … I never thought I'd have my first kiss and not remember it. Of course I'm happy it was with you, but … but I don't even remember what—"

A hand grabbed his shoulder and then Ladybug's lips brushed his. It was a kiss of unexpected silk, stirring butterflies all through him.

She pulled back, lowering from her tiptoes to her normal height. "There," she said, her cheeks pinker than a rose. "Now you'll remember."

He blinked dazedly.

"Bye, Chat."

"Bu-buh …" He gave up getting any coherent words out and just settled for an awkward, dopy wave as she soared off on her yoyo.

Wow. So, that's what it felt like.


	56. Spell it Out

This was written for anon, who requested number 27 and Ladynoir.

27: Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other's lap.

* * *

**Spell it Out **

He's half curled up on Ladybug's lap, long limbs spilling over the sides like some overgrown cat. Not that she minds. She's the one who welcomed him closer when she saw his face—the smile more fragile than an eggshell, the unspoken plea in his eyes for human contact.

He struggles to hold back a purr as she traces ticklish patterns onto his back with her fingertip—a circle, a flower, even what feels like a cat. Then the pattern changes. One green eye peeps open.

"Are you writing on me?" he asks.

She laughs softly. Her finger traces out letters, and this time he pays attention to the shapes and connecting lines. One line slanted to the left, then one straight down, then back up on a slant to the right. The next a circle. The last like a cup.

"You," he says.

"Mhmm."

She traces more letters.

His brow furrows. The first is definitely an S, then a T, then an I, N, K—

"Hey," he exclaims, rolling over on her lap so he's staring up at her. "I do not stink."

She giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. "I dunno. Sometimes I do get a bit of a cheesy smell from you."

"That is not my fault."

"Blaming it on Plagg again just 'cause he's not here to defend himself, huh?"

"Ladybug!"

Her laughter rings out, warm and surprisingly comforting for all that she's teasing him. She knows how paranoid he gets about the camembert thing. (Because the last thing he wants is to be known as that guy who smells like old gym socks.)

"Alright, alright," she says. "I'll be serious. Let me write something else."

"I have a better idea."

"Oh, and what's that?"

He sits up, straddling her thighs, and leans in close as he meets her gaze. "This …"

The kiss is teasingly soft. When he pulls back, her eyes are still closed but a smile lingers on her lips.

"If you wanted me to kiss you, kitty, all you had to do was ask."

"Well, if—"

Her lips collide with his, cutting off his words. Not that he's complaining. He settles more comfortably on her lap and wraps his arms around her. They kiss and kiss, and as they do he traces letters on her thigh to form three words.

She pulls back with a laugh. "You dork."

"Caught that, did you?" he says with an unrepentant grin.

Her arms loop around his neck, and she presses a chaste kiss to his lips. "I love you too."

* * *

This was gonna be angst, but I just wrote an angsty one-shot, so have this cheesy thing of romantic fluff instead.


	57. i feel you holding me

This was written for anon, who requested number 44 and marichat. I decided to go an AU-ish route because I was in an angst mood. Sorry if you were hoping for something fluffy. Just not feeling it today.

44: Tentative kisses given in the dark.

* * *

**i feel you holding me (tighter, i cannot see) **

"Chat Noir," she whispers.

"I'm right here."

His hand find hers in the dark, warm even gloved. She clings tight.

The shouts have faded. The smoke that choked is just a bitter stain in her lungs, rasping her throat. Blood drips from her ear where one earring was ripped free. She can't transform now, but then the stolen earring is useless to Papillion as well. It's a small comfort.

"We'll be safe here," Chat Noir says. "Don't worry. I'm sure Ladybug will come soon, and then we can—"

A small sound escapes her, not a sob but not really a cry either. It's pained and raw like the stone caught in her throat that won't go away no matter how much she swallows.

"Marinette?"

Tears sting like prickles to her eyes and scald her cheeks. She wants to tell him, wants to confess that the partner he admires is right here—just a foolish girl who trusted too easily. But the words won't come out. They just won't.

"Hey." His other hand finds her face, smearing tears. "O-oh, you're …"

_You're crying._

He doesn't say it, but then he doesn't have to.

Suddenly, he's pulling her into his arms. She doesn't resist. Her body trembles and she tucks herself against him like moss finding a home, hiding in his shelter. His fingers run through her unbound hair, rhythmic and soothing.

"It's okay," he murmurs. "It's going to be okay."

It's not, of course. He doesn't understand. But right now she doesn't have the strength to explain. It's like this tiny moment of stillness has ripped off a lid to her emotions and everything is scratching and clawing to break free. It'll shatter her if she lets it out.

She wants to forget. Wants it to stop. The memories, the responsibilities, the failure that bleeds from her mangled ear and weighs her shoulders like razor-edged stones.

"Chat?"

"Yes?"

Her hand slides up his chest, passing from fabric to skin. His pulse thrums under her fingertips. She dares to place a kiss to his neck—close-lipped and delicate as a feather, just a taste of gossamer and silk. His breathing hitches.

She waits, gauging his reaction. He says nothing. All she can feel is his quickening pulse and his grip tighten ever so slightly on her waist. Heart pounding, she presses another kiss to his neck, then to his jaw. The next is near his ear, and this time she trails her sensitive lower lip against his skin, igniting tingles with every brush of contact.

He swallows audibly.

"Marinette …"

She pulls back with a snap. "Sorry. I shouldn't have … I just …"

Green eyes, luminescent like emerald moons, peer down at her. "You can't kiss me like that unless you mean it."

Her heart thumps and thumps, echoing its song like thunder in her ears. "What if I do?"

"Do you?"

She closes her eyes, and guilt twists her belly like a knife dug deep. "I … I don't know." Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Chat. I'm sorry I'm such a mess. I'm sorry I—"

"Hey, it's okay." He hugs her close again. "You've been through a lot."

"Sorry."

"You don't need to apologise." His lips brush her forehead, and then he shifts her into a more comfortable position on his lap and rests his chin on her head. "Let's just stay like this, okay? If you still feel like kissing me in the morning, we can talk about it then."

A half hiccup, half laugh escapes her and she nuzzles closer. "Okay."


	58. A Hairy Situation

This is really late, but happy (belated) birthday, Emsy! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**A Hairy Situation**

Her earrings are beeping, but that's okay. She's on cloud nine, her arms full of Adrien Agreste. And he smells—

Like hairspray. Lots and lots of hairspray. Geez. That stuff is potent, getting right up in her nostrils like a hairspray punch. No more self-indulgent sniffs. She edges her nose back, though she keeps her arms secure around him. This part, at least—the feel of his body close to hers and his arms around her neck—is something she will treasure. (Though she is going to have serious words with Chat Noir the next time she sees him. Why hadn't he turned up for that akuma battle? He's lucky she managed without him.)

"Ladybug, this really isn't necessary," Adrien says.

"But you'll get in trouble if you don't get back to your photoshoot."

"Yes, but …"

Her teeth flash in a brilliant smile. "Don't worry. I'm happy to help."

"But your ear—"

She glances back at him, catching the grimace on his face. (His face, which is so close to hers. She can see the sheen of makeup.)

"What?" she asks.

He bites his lip, looks off to the side. "Your, uh, ears might get cold."

She laughs, bright and easy. "My ears will be fine."

His laugh is more of a restrained _Heh_. "Right. I guess it's silly of me to worry about your ears."

This time, he pulls an even odder face, like he's just eaten something with an unexpected, crunchy texture. He mouths "What?" to himself and buries his face in her hair so she can't see how red it's turning. (It is redder than the sunsets she sometimes watches with Chat Noir.) She tries very hard not to laugh.

They reach the rooftop of the building where his photoshoot was being held. "There," she says, and tries to place him down, but there's a sharp, wrenching tug on one of her pigtails. A small hiss escapes her. She tries again with the same result.

"Ladybug, you're—you're stuck on my zipper."

"What?" she shrieks.

She tries to twist around to see, but that just creates pain, regret, and much ouch. The zipper on his coat is a chunky thing that isn't the usual _Gabriel_ brand style, and right now it seems determined to eat her hair. Worse, the more Adrien pulls away to try make it "better", the more he seems to get her stuck, drawing her in closer with the relentless tugs at her scalp. The zip won't even budge.

"Don't move!" she exclaims.

He stiffens in her arms, one foot reaching for the rooftop, panic sucking the colour from his face as his eyes go round.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Ladybug, your earri—uh, um …" He rubs the base of his neck. "What's that beeping sound? I've been hearing it for a while."

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

"I need to get free," she says, trying to hold him with one hand so she can loosen her hair. It seems like the miraculous has strengthened her hair somehow, which is the last thing she needs. Breakages would be better than exposing her identity. She's got barely a minute left before her transformation drops.

This is bad. This is really bad.

She tugs and wriggles, then just makes a frustrated sound as she realises that having an armful of Adrien Agreste is a lot more inconvenient when she's holding him bridal style, is stuck to his zipper, and is trying to free up a hand. There's no way she can make this work.

"You do it," she says.

"W-what?"

"Please!"

He visibly gulps. "Okay, okay," he says, his voice a higher pitch. "I can—"

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Hurry!" she moans, hopping from one foot to the other in a frantic little dance.

He speeds into motion, but it's terrible motion. First he's too gentle, then he's too rough, and all the while the beeping blares in a countdown and leaves them both sweating with panic.

"It's not coming free!" Adrien squeaks, still fiddling with her hair.

She can't respond, too busy hyperventilating. This can't be happening, this can't be happening, this can't—

"Plagg, transform me!"

Wait, what?

She's holding Chat Noir in her arms. He's got his claws ready to slice through her pigtail, though he snatches his hand back when he sees her hair is already free of the cursed zip. Her mouth open and closes, words lost somewhere on her tongue.

"Hiya," he says, offering a wave and a smile that is too much teeth and like the strain of elastic pulled tight.

_Beep!_

Her transformation drops in a flare of pink sparkles. Now there is too much weight in her arms and her knees buckle, but none of that matters because she is staring at Chat Noir. _Adrien Agreste_. And he is her classmate but also her partner, and she rejected him so many times because she is in love with him, and none of this is making sense at all, but also it makes so much sense, and—

"Woah, woah." He leaps out of her arms and catches her by the shoulders before she can collapse in a puddle of racing thoughts. "Lady—Marinette, just breathe."

So she does, taking deep breaths in and out.

He detransforms and bites his lip in a nervous manner. Plagg and Tikki have moved back to give them some space.

"Um, is this better?" he asks.

Her gaze seeks his—warm, summer-green eyes which she has sighed over a hundred times. Except now she can't look at him without also seeing cat ears and a black mask. "It's you," she says.

He nods. "Yeah."

She reaches for his face, touching his cheek and then up to where the mask would cover. Her eyes are round discs of blue. "You."

A laugh shakes his shoulders. "Me."

She crashes into him with a smile. "I'm so glad."

His arms come around her, squeezing in the good way that makes her feel real and him even more so. This isn't a dream. No one is going to shatter this moment. Adrien is Chat Noir. It's not the reveal she'd wanted, not by far, but she doesn't want to lose this knowledge. She doesn't want to lose him.

He smooths his hand along her hair. "Phew. For a moment there, I thought you were going to get mad at me."

"Why would I get mad?"

It's taking everything in her not to squeal with joy and jump up and down.

"Because I transformed in front of you."

"Oh. Right." She hugs him tighter. "You shouldn't have done that."

His chest tremors with laughter, letting her feel the vibration all through her. "You don't care at all, do you?"

"I would be a hypocrite if I did. It's my fault we even got in this mess."

She'd been so caught up in being with him for a bit longer that she'd convinced herself she had more time. Everything had spiralled from there. He'd even warned her countless times, and then he'd—

Her eyes widen and she pulls back to meet his gaze, jabbing him in the stomach. "You were going to cut my hair!"

"I'm sorry!" He raises his hands in surrender. "I panicked!"

She manages to hold her pursed-lips look for a grand total of one second before she caves and snuggles back into him. "Well, I guess I can let you off the hook this time. My hair is still intact. Just make sure you keep your claws away from it."

He slips his fingers through the black strands of the almost chopped pigtail. "What about this? Is this okay?"

Her heart stutters into a tap dance against her ribs. "I-I suppose."

He trails his fingers around to cup her jaw, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "And this?"

She swallows. "Adrien …"

Her voice is soft, more a sigh of breath. The heat spreading over her face is a sunrise of shyness but it's sweet hope as well. Is he doing what she thinks he's trying to do? (The thumping of her heart hopes so.)

"Marinette, I love you," he whispers.

She rises on her tiptoes and kisses him. It's a burst of relief and too many months of pent up longing, and he almost stumbles from the way her passion crashes into him like a wave to shore. His laughter hums against her lips as he wraps his other arm around her waist and kisses her.

After a moment, he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead on hers. "I guess there's something to be said for getting into hairy situations."

She snorts. "You dork."

"Ah, but I'm you're dork."

He says it in his usual over-suave way, but the look in his eyes is hopeful and all plea. _Please let me be your dork._

She drags him down by his collar and kisses him again. "Adrien Agreste, I have been in love with you for the longest time. I certainly hope you'll be my dork."


	59. the roses still bloom

Ghjsk so it turns out the stars were aligned. Hope you enjoy this, lightasthesun!

* * *

**the roses still bloom**

Adrien sat next to Marinette on the chaise in her bedroom. Maybe too close. He felt like a lost shadow trying to latch onto her, his knee brushing hers, his hand itching to twine their fingers. It wasn't a possessive desire. He just wanted to feel the warmth of life that pulsed in her veins, that made her chest rise and fall.

He wanted reassurance.

"You sure you're alright?" he asked.

She ducked her head, pink blooming on her face. "It was just a bit of dizziness."

Cold seized his heart and squeezed it tight. Just a bit of dizziness. How many times had he heard those words? How many times had he been brushed aside, told to ignore what was right in front of his eyes? The colour that had faded on cheeks like withering roses. Smiles that were just flimsy veils, barely concealing what was beneath. Records left to collect dust. An empty space where a woman should have stood. The little sways. The little tumbles. His father's grim expression and the doors that had shut him out over and over.

Adrien couldn't do it again. Not with Marinette.

His hand gripped hers. "But it's not serious, right? You'll really be okay?"

Her eyes widened and the rosy hue on her face darkened. "Y-yeah. I just need to rest and I'll be fine."

More of the same. Both his mum and Nathalie had told him that so many times. It brought hot stings to his eyes.

"Adrien?" she said in alarm, returning his grip. "Hey, what's wrong?"

There was a lump stuck in his throat. Tears gathered around his eyelashes, clinging and clinging. Somehow, it felt like if he let one fall then it would all spill out—every shaking, rib-splintering fear that he was keeping locked up inside of him. Every clawing, scrap of emotion.

"I'm sorry," Adrien managed to say, his voice low and trembling. "I-I came here to check up on you, yet here I am—"

"No, it's okay." She rubbed his arm in a soothing way, and he couldn't help but lean into her touch like a starved plant aching for the sun. "I'm more worried about you right now."

He bit his lip. Right, because here he was falling apart in front of her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

His free hand balled into a fist, knuckles flashing white. "It just … it feels like this keeps happening."

"What do you mean?"

"The dizzy spells." His voice came out in the barest whisper. "People getting sick. That's how it started with Mum, you know. Little dizzy spells that got worse and worse. Then I wasn't allowed to see her."

Marinette squeezed his shoulder, offering comfort and encouraging him to go on.

The lump in his throat got bigger. Choking. "Nathalie's sick. Same dizzy spells. Same excuses." He swallowed, struggling to get the words out. "I don't even see her these days, but Father still says it's not serious." His voice wobbled. "And now you're having dizzy spells …"

Marinette wordlessly pulled him into her arms. He closed his eyes, pressing close. Now he could feel her warmth. Now he could feel every breath she took and how it fanned his neck. It still wasn't enough.

"I'm sorry, Adrien," she said softly. "I know it must have been so hard for you to lose your mum. I know you must be really worried about Nathalie as well." She held him extra tight. "But you don't have to worry about me. I'm just a little anaemic at the moment. It'll pass, I swear."

The words barely penetrated his mind, muddled up by anxious thoughts and a scream that reverberated in every beat of his heart.

_Not Marinette_. _Not her, too._

So irrational. So uncontrollable. Maybe it didn't matter what she said; he had already become that boy sitting in a room too big for him, crying over old photos and bringing roses to a statue in the garden.

Tears rolled down his cheeks, scalding trails that trembled on his lips. He couldn't stop them. He couldn't seem to stop any of this: the struggle for air, the little shudders, the way he just wanted to shatter apart like porcelain cracked one too many times.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, because he didn't know what else to say. He felt so stupid, so emotional. But he couldn't stop. Marinette was a treasured friend, and he had lost people before.

She rubbed her hand along his back. "You don't have to apologise," she said, her voice just as hushed. "It's okay to cry."

Fresh tears prickled his eyes. He buried his face into her shoulder and his fingers curled into her jacket. All the pent-up grief and anxiety tumbled out of him, raw and with none of the pretty finish his father would have expected. She held him without hesitation.

It was a long time before they broke apart. When they did, his eyes were red and he sniffed, conscious that he probably looked a snotty mess.

"Feeling better?" she asked, handing him a tissue.

He blew his nose and wiped some of the stray tears from his cheeks. "Y-yeah," he said hoarsely. "I, um, I think I really needed that."

She smiled.

His heart stuttered. That smile. Soft, warm, like spring chasing away winter's chill, promising that whatever had withered would bloom again. A smile that was just so Marinette.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. "Thank you."

"O-oh, um, y-you're melmlome. I-I mean welcome."

His lips curved at the little slip-up and his hand found hers, half interlacing their fingers in a loose hold. "I mean it. Marinette, you are one of the most amazing girls I have ever met. I'm so grateful to have you as a friend. I'm so grateful you're you."

Heat spread across her face, tickling his skin.

"And I'm sorry for getting snot on you," he added. "I can wash your jacket for you if you like."

A hushed laugh escaped her lips. "You don't have to do that. I don't mind." She tentatively interlaced their fingers fully, palm against palm. "But, Adrien, I hope you know that I'll always be here for you if you need me. Always."

Warmth filled his chest. It was a touch of something so dear and familiar, slipping like a whisper into the beat of his heart. It seemed only natural to caress her thumb with his and kiss her on the cheek. His lips lingered against her heated skin. "I know," he murmured, pulling back to meet her gaze. "And I'll always be here for you."

Her eyes were wide and her face practically glowed with her blush. Smiling, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and hugged her once more. She was his treasured friend. He wanted her to know that. Feel that. Or maybe he just wanted to be close to her. He supposed it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that she did not pull away, and she wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

The prompt lighasthesun requested:

ML writing prompt inspired by this scene— "My mum used to have dizzy spells just like Natalie. My father said those weren't serious either."

When his 'friend' Marinette starts getting continously worsening dizzy spells Adrien is reminded of his mother and worries about her more than others. (He doesn't want to lose her too.) angst, hurt/comfort


End file.
